Gate: Thus the NCR began another War
by ButterySalt
Summary: A year after the Second battle of Hoover Dam, the NCR, along with the support of the Courier, experienced a industrial revolution; long abandoned factories began to work once more, as blueprints from the Boomers and the BoS were used to increase the arsenal of the New California Republic. On March 15, 2282, the Saderan Empire commited it's first mistake: Don't tread on the Bear.
1. Welcome to Vegas, baby!

When the Gate appeared in Freeside, everything was in chaos. An entire legion had appeared, and began massacring and ransacking as much as they could in the chaos. Unfortunately, however;

The Courier just happened to be exiting the Atomic Wrangler, and the legionnaires were met with a terrifying sight; of a demon in a mask, garbed with what appeared to be a coat with some armored plates who had pulled up concrete with inhuman strength, and;

promptly chucked it towards them as they hid behind their shields, formation torn apart by the massive chunk of rock.

"For the Emperor!" A legionnaire cried, as he charged forward, spear and shield in hand. He got within range as the Courier spun his revolver out of it's holster, the Ranger Sequoia blasting the legionnaire in the face with a .45/70 round.

The Courier was having the shittiest of days.

First, he had to go clear out a nest of deathclaws that were harassing caravans passing through to Novac. Then, when he finally finished and went for a drink at the Atomic Wrangler, a legion force of sixty thousand appeared out of nowhere in the middle of freeside, and started pillaging the area as if they were raiders. Activating the NCR emergency radio, he fired several more rounds with the Sequoia in the general direction of the legionnaires, holstering it as he materialized a automatic 10mm pistol with a extended magazine in his left hand, and a extended ripper in the other as he took a stance.

"You're request for reinforcements has been acknowledged. A company is being dispatched to your location." he charged forward, ripper roaring as it shred through armor, tearing apart flesh. His pistol, affectionately named Justice, spat out a round into a swordsman's face as he charged forward, sword in hand. The Courier spun around, ripper cutting again as a man clutched his throat, blood spilling through his fingers as he gurgled. The sound of engines could be heard, as newly revived apcs of the old world came roaring down the street, NCR troopers deploying from the vehicles while shock troopers in reactivated power armor stormed forward with miniguns.

"Support the Courier! Get those legion bastards!" A Major, most likely the one in charge, shouted over the roar of gunfire as the Republic tore apart the soldiers of an Empire. A desperate legionnaire charged towards a shock trooper with his sword, as he desperately clanged uselessly against the ceramic-enforced steel power armor the man was wearing. His head became pulp afterwards as the trooper smashed his face in, firing without a second thought back into the enemy formation. another, rapidly approaching roar caught the Courier's attention as he turned to see what had come up behind them. With the NCR's reestablishment of factories, courtesy of some help from the Boomers, pre-war tanks were beginning to be manufactured off of a old tank the Brotherhood had discovered some years ago. Equipped with an autoloader and a machinegun on top, it provided suppressive fire onto the shield formation, which had begun to route from the sheer amount of casualties they had taken.

"What the fuck is that?!"

"It's a motherfuckin flying deathclaw!"

"Stop talking and start shooting, private!" A sergeant roared at his subordinate as the dragon swooped down towards them, and was sent spiraling backwards as the Courier blasted it in the wings with a anti-material rifle. Their enemies were numerous, as they were weak; 5.56 rounds penetrated their shields and armor easily, making them helpless against the onslaught.

"Super mutant! 1 O'clock!" The Courier dematerialized and drew the Sequoia in all but a second, the revolver splattering the beast's brains against a wall. The miniguns began to roar, 5mm casings clattering to the ground at rapid speed as men were ripped apart, screaming as their armor did nothing to protect them.

"They're routing! Push!" the Major screamed, as service rifles and miniguns, along with a 75mm gun tore apart the shattered remains of a legion back into the Gate. Fireteams would be dispatched later to clear any buildings of hostiles; otherwise, the area was secure for now.

"Crocker's gonna wanna see this..." A trooper muttered as he kicked a still twitching corpse, leaking from various 5mm sized wounds in it's chest.

"I appreciate your support, Major..."

"Major Durnham, of the newly established 9th mechanized company. It's an honor to meet you, sir." The Courier waved him off.

"Call me Six. You did a good job, Major. I'll make sure you get a promotion soon." Major Durnham nodded ecstatically, and began barking orders for his men to secure the area and establish a defensive position.

"Sir! Ambassador Crocker wants you to give him a report." A trooper reported, and he nodded in reply, pointing at what appeared to be decorated officer, groaning in pain.

"Take him prisoner. Don't do anything to him until I return. I'll need him to get some answers later."

"Sir." The trooper saluted, and the Courier made his short trip back to the embassy.

When he entered the strip, it was on high alert; securitrons rolled around as NCR military police, now armed with their service rifles, patrolled in groups of threes checking every corner and alley of the strip. He entered the embassy, and was promptly directed towards Crocker's office, in which the man himself was pacing back and forth in the room.

"Ambassador." Crocker nodded in reply.

"What happened in freeside?"

"Enemy legion force, numbering in around sixty thousand men. technologically inferior, they were eliminated within a hour of their entrance." Crocker sighed.

"And beyond the Gate?"

"Unknown. most likely another world, which congress would enjoy expanding their territory over." Crocker sighed.

"When the public is informed and no action is being taken, there will be an uproar; most likely we will be forced into the region to demand recompensation."

"Who's in going to be in charge of this operation in the... special region?"

"General Oliver has been assigned, and considering that we have no clue as to what lays on the other side, he will most likely have much more freedom in his orders than before." Which was a relief to the Courier, considering that much of the General's actions had been impeded by the Senate.

"You are to be deployed as an asset to General Oliver's forces, who are due to depart to the gate in the next;" Crocker glanced at his wristwatch.

"hour." The Courier's eyes widened, as he sprinted towards the exit to collect his belongings as Crocker chuckled.

"Good luck, Six."

"On this day, March 15, 2282, we have been attacked by unknown legion forces from within our own city; with family members slaughtered helplessly." Freeside had sprung up to become a much more populated city; with several thousand making their homes in the ruins of what was Las Vegas.

"The senate has voted unanimously, that we are to retaliate against this unknown empire and tear it's flawed ideas down to the core!" General Oliver gave shitty speeches sometimes.

"Courier, If you may give a word." Great. He threw me under the bus. I cleared my throat, as the thousands of soldiers that stood in formation before me looked up at me with anticipation.

"Remember, troopers; we do not kill noncombatants. They're the enemy the moment they start running at you with a knife. Understood?"

"Yes sir!"

"Troopers! embark!" the formation split as troopers hurried to their apcs, engines roaring as their ignitions turned on.

"Units! Advance!" The vehicles rumbled forward, the Courier sitting on top of Oliver's command tank as it rolled forwards into the dark abyss of the Gate.

"Six." General Oliver spoke as they rumbled through the unknown.

"Yes sir?"

"What do you think awaits us on the other side?"

"Hell if I know, sir. For all we know, it could be the wasteland once more."

"I suppose…"

"I think I see the exit, sir!" the commander of the lead tank crackled through the radio, and General Oliver picked up his transmitter.

"All units! Prepare for combat! I want defensive positions set up as fast as possible!" They rumbled through the exit, and the Courier gasped as he witnessed the world outside.

"It's… beautiful."


	2. Into the Woods

They had arrived on a hill, overlooking what appeared to be a small forest. Green filled the Courier's vision as he pulled off his mask, staring in awe with everyone else as they made the greatest discovery that the wasteland had ever found;

A world untouched by the Old World, hidden away from the radiation and devastation.

"Contact! They're right fucking there!" A trooper screamed, as legionnaires rose from the slope of the hill, charging towards them. The Courier drew his sequoia, lining the sights right on the head of a centurion running uphill;

And drew first blood, as it trickled down and watered Alnus hill.

The battle of Alnus Hill, as it was now called by troopers, had finished in less than thirty minutes.

In twenty eight minutes, an ambushing force of ten thousand had been demolished by a force of two thousand men.

"Start building those fortifications! I want those walls and guns set up, stat!" a nearby Lieutenant shouted, as troopers scrambled with shovels and sandbags towards the slope of the hill.

"Courier! The General wants to see you." He glanced at the trooper and began walking towards the command tent, slinging the BOZAR over his shoulder. Two shock troopers stood at guard, light machine guns creating a imposing force should anyone unauthorized try to force their way in. Once he stepped inside, however, the tent was crowded with various officers; radio operators were busy getting their devices online, as cables were lined on the floor to the outside of the tent.

"Sir. Reporting for duty." Oliver nodded in his general direction, sighing at the blank map.

"I'll get to the point. We have no idea of the surrounding terrain, or of any cities or towns nearby. This is where you come in." He pointed at what seemed to be a dirt road.

"Roads generally mean people travel on them. I'm sending you along with a detachment to perform some reconnaissance on the surrounding area." The Courier nodded.

"Rules of engagement?" Oliver tugged his cap off to scratch at his head.

"Hold fire until fired upon. Although an official declaration of war has not been made, I don't want a small skirmish to start one. Congress would have my head if it did." Six nodded in confirmation.

"Colonel Moore isn't here, is she?" Oliver winced.

"The senate was rather adamant in having her under my command. However;" He turned to face the Courier directly, straightening himself up.

"You will answer to me directly, and only follow my orders. Otherwise, you have no obligation to obey the orders of others." He nodded, and began to turn towards the exit of the tent.

"One more thing, Courier- You'll be attached to Recon Three, as their backup should they encounter anyone that can't be removed by a 75mm cannon."

"Understood."

"Good. Dismissed."

The General had changed much, Six mused; Ol' General Wait and See now took advice from even Chief Hanlon of the NCR Rangers himself, Unlike during the 2nd Battle of Hoover Dam. He seemed much more responsible, to the ire of the Senate; He had used his political influence to gain more support for the military, allowing for squads to be armed with more than just simple service rifles. He stepped outside; fortifications and walls had begun their construction, as emplacements were built with machine guns and tanks were set into well dug holes in the ground. He strode past several troopers carrying munitions, who paused to stare at him in awe as he walked by. The reverence was beginning to annoy him; He was nothing more than a glorified mercenary, who just happened to be under the NCR's payroll. He made his way over the makeshift carpool, where a Sherman along with several prewar APCs awaited, it's crew sprawled around them. The officer in charge scrambled to his feet, smacking the sergeant next to him in the head.

"Ten-shun!" The troopers scrambled to their feet, standing as straight as they could.

"At ease." They went slack, as one of the troopers scraped some mud off of his shoe.

"I've been given orders from the General himself to go along with your recon team. Who's the commanding officer here?" The officer stood taller, chest puffed proudly.

"I am, sir." He nodded.

"Name and rank, trooper."

"First Lieutenant Itami Yoji, sir!" Six nodded.

"Good. Lieutenant Itami, get your men ready. We depart in ten minutes." Itami nodded and rushed off, ushering his men into separate vehicles.

"Mr. Courier!" He turned around.

"What?" The Lieutenant grinned.

"Welcome to Third Recon."

Twenty minutes later, much to the Courier's ire, Third Recon left Alnus hill and began it's mission; to establish contact with nearby villages and towns, and secure support for the NCR.

Which was easier said than done, apparently.

"WHY THE FUCK ARE THERE SO MANY TREES!?" Corporal Viktor shouted, as the tank plowed through yet another tree in the way, smashing it in half.

"Don't ask why, Corporal! Just do it!" His superior, Sergeant Abel shouted, as the tank cleared the dirt road of obstacles.  
"I swear to god, If I find the motherfucker who did thi-" a volley of arrows peppered the side of the tank, clattering uselessly against the ceramic enforced armor.

"AMBUSH! 9 o'clock!" private Wilkins shouted, firing the machinegun attached to the turret of the sherman as tracers tore into the woods to the left.

"Stay behind cover!" Someone screamed, as another volley peppered them once more. Six fumbled with his pip-boy as he searched his weapons; and materialized it and chucked it into the forest. The incendiary grenade torched the forest, setting it ablaze as what appeared to be bandits came running out screaming as they attempting to extinguish the fire;

And were promptly shot by 5.56 rounds as the troopers found their targets.

"Get some, motherfucker!" A trooper cheered as his service rifle barked, a bandit toppling over as his corpse slowly burned. The bandits never stood a chance; especially when the lead APC opened it's hatch, and several shock troopers clad in T-51 armor and carrying miniguns came lumbering out, and began firing into the general direction that the bandits came from. Silence filled the forest for several minutes; and the Courier nodded, and gestured for them to get back on.

"Area secured. Let's get moving." The troopers embarked once more, as they continued their long, grueling trip through the woods.

And with long trips, conversations began.

"Hey, Wilkins. You've ever seen this many trees before?"

"Nah. I've heard rumors from places like Vault 22, but otherwise, no."

"I've heard of that place. What's in it exactly?" Wilkins was about to respond, when the Courier interrupted.

"I've been inside. Imagine if mother nature became an nazi and began experimenting. You do not want to enter there."

"What did you find?"

"Fungus." He responded curtly.

"Fungus?" Wilkins and Viktor questioned, curiously.

"Imagine if you inhaled fungus spores, and that in turn, began to take over your mind and your immune system. Eventually you would lose all function, and the fungus would control your dead corpse, looking for more unfortunate scavengers to infect." Viktor shuddered. Sergeant Abel interrupted them from above, where she was sitting next to the Lieutenant, focused on the periscope to watch for incoming targets.

"Alright, enough horror stories for today.I don't want to watch a bunch of greens puke inside the tank. Damn thing smells bad enough as it is." Six sighed.

"Alright. Enough stories for today then." The convoy suddenly rolled into a stop, and he glanced at the Lieutenant.

"Why'd we stop?"

"I think we found a village. Can't read what it says, though."

"Lieutenant, Your illiteracy is of no concern of mine."

"No. I mean it's not in English." He pointed at the sign above, which made little to zero sense to the Courier.

"Oh." He glanced around; he spotted a woman through the window, who eeped and swung the curtains shut.

"Alright. I'm gonna go and try to talk to them. Lieutenant Itami, on me." And thus, began the NCR's first contact with the inhabitants of the world beyond the Gate.

"Your excellency, I am here to report that… All of the legions sent to Alnus hill have been destroyed." The officer reported, as he shook with fear from the consequences of failure."

"That's impossible!"

"Lies! He dares to lie in front of the Emperor!" Various senators roared, slandering the poor officer as he knelt before the imperial throne. Emperor Molt Augustus raised his hand, and the senators quieted down.

"General Tiberius, I did not expect such news. The Saderan Empire has the finest legionnaires in all of Falmart; are you suggesting that there is an even superior force that now resides on Alnus hill?" Tiberius nodded rapidly.

"Yes, my Emperor. They carry magical sticks that can kill a man instantly; and many surviving patrols report of demons with glowing red eyes, carrying small sticks of iron that kill indiscriminately." Emperor Molt Augustus, Imperator of the Saderan Empire, stroked his beard thoughtfully.

"Well then, Tiberius. I hereby give you permission to conscript the armies of the allied nations." Tiberius trembled in fear.

"For what, sir?" The Emperor's eyes practically gleamed.

"For the counterattack, of course. You will lead them in the front, and remove the invaders from Alnus hill. If you fail, I seek no answers from your corpse." The general could do nothing but nod.

"yes, sir. I understand." Augustus nodded, and waved him off.

"Good. Go and begin your preparations. You are dismissed." Tiberius scrambled out of the large double doors, as the senate erupted once more.

"Such rash actions will lead to our downfall! The enemy beyond the gate proved far superior than what we imagined! We must make peace now, otherwise we will-"

"Peace? I spit on what you call peace. The Saderan Empire has never bowed down to another Empire, and it never will!" Emperor Molt sighed, leaning on his throne.

The senate could be such a bore sometimes…


	3. Bleeding Hearts

"Any luck?" the Courier questioned, and Corporal Viktor shook his head.

"No sir. It reminds me of the language those damned legion bastards speak in; latin, I think it was called; but otherwise, no clue." the Courier sighed, and he turned around.

"Someone bring out the map. It'll make things easier." He gestured, and Sergeant Abel tugged out a large piece of slightly crinkled paper.

"'ere you go, boss." He unfolded it and waved it around, fingers in a peace sign. Private Wilkins snorted, much to the Courier's ire.

"Private. You do it." He handed them over, much to Wilkins' dismay.

"What? but I-"

"Are you questioning my orders, private Wilkins?" Wilkins sighed, picking up the map and began waving it around frantically. To the Courier's amusement, a child opened one of the doors, pointing at Wilkins with the most confused expression on her face.

"Seems you're getting popular, Wilkins! Don't let it get to your head!" Sergeant Abel shouted, as Corporal Viktor struggled to keep his composure. The Courier reached into his pocket, taking out a chocolate bar and offered it towards the girl.

"Don't be shy. Here, you can have it." The girl slowly left the doorway of her home, picking up the candy as she lightly nibbled on it. A terrified mother and father ran out after her, and the troopers raised their weapons out of reflex.

"Stand down. It's just her parents." They relaxed, rifles still on standby as they milled around.

"Wilkins. Good job. Now give me back the map." The now folded map was tossed towards the Courier, who snatched it out of the air. He walked over towards the girl's father, who was apparently reprimanding his daughter. Tapping on his shoulder to get his attention, he pointed at the map and then at the village. The man pointed at the map, drawing a small square. He then drew a larger square a few klicks away from the village. Then, he drew another small square in the middle of a forest they had spotted earlier, and began to speak incomprehensibly. The Courier nodded.

"Thank you sir." He materialized a gold bar he had gotten from the Sierra Madre, handing it over to the man as the man's eyes practically popped out of their sockets.

"Troopers! Embark! We're moving!" He turned around, walking towards the rest of Third Recon as they embarked upon their vehicles.

"What'd you find, sir?" Sergeant Abel looked over curiously.

"Three places of interest; We're currently here-" He pointed at the first square on the map, on the edge of the woods and near the dirt road.

"And there's a major town a hour or so away. There's another village nearby that I want to check on." He clambered up on top of the tank, sitting on the turret next to Lieutenant Itami.

"We're moving towards here-" He pointed at the village in the forest again.

"And we'll stop to rest there. You okay with that?" No answer.

"Lieutenant?" He turned towards Itami, who was apparently snoring away in the commander's seat.

"Oh, for fucks sake."

"Convoy! Halt!" The Courier stared at the forest in the distance.

"Holy fuck." Corporal Viktor commented as he exited the hatch, the rest of the troopers spilling out of their APCs. A massive dragon was burning everything in the distance; the entire forest a hellish landscape. Lieutenant Itami climbed up on top of the turret, taking out his binoculars as he looked at the dragon.

"Abel! I'm so scared! There's a massive dragon burning down the entire forest!"

"Shut up, Itami." Sergeant Abel rolled her eyes.

"Sergeant. why would a dragon be burning down an entire forest?" Sergeant Abel shrugged.

"Maybe he felt like it, sir. Same with a deathclaw." The Lieutenant kept looking through his binoculars, as the dragon continued it's rampage.

"Predators generally attack whenever they sense prey nearby. Considering the size of that thing, It's lived long enough to learn that attacking those stronger than it leads to pain." He lowered the binoculars.

"Besides, the village on the map is inside this forest, meaning it's probably razed to the ground by now." Sergeant Abel froze.

"Troopers, set up camp. We'll move in to check the village at dawn." the Lieutenant glanced at the Courier.

"I'm assuming you're gonna go move ahead without us?" Courier Six nodded, a silenced Maria in hand.

"I'll wait for you at whatever remains of the village. For now, make sure your men get some rest, Lieutenant Itami." The Lieutenant nodded and gave a salute.

"yes sir." The Courier stalked off into the woods, Maria in hand as he practically all but merged into the thick trees.

"I hope that he knows what he's getting himself into..." Itami sighed, as he turned around to address his men.

In all honesty, the Courier had no idea what he was trying to do. He made his way, ducking and weaving under branches as the dragon roared above, spraying hellfire in a eighty meter radius. He materialized his missile launcher and fired towards the west, praying that the dragon wouldn't notice the burst of light.

A streak of light soared through the woods, catching the dragon's attention as it paused it's roasting and began to chase the missile that had zipped right past it's head. Checking to make sure it was gone, he ran towards the direction of the burning town, duster flapping behind him as the wind ripped past him. He managed to reach the fringes of the village, as he went to work immediately. He kicked down the door of the first building, and hurried to carry the family inside out onto the wet grass. The second door went in; and the house erupted, the Courier rolling away as it collapsed from inside. He grimaced at the flames, and materialized several cryo grenades, intent on stopping the fire as fast as possible.

An entire week's worth of cryo grenades later, he had managed to extinguish most of the flames that had swallowed the village; the entire village was smoldering, as several charred corpses and scattered wooden beams lay strewn about. The survivors were staring at him in awe as the sun rose behind him, presenting him with what some swore was a halo of holy light; and began to bow down on their knees, as if he were a saint. Unexpected with this development, he began to slowly back away;

And an arrow struck the tree next to his head, as the Courier drew his sequoia in alarm.

"We don't need your help, filthy human." one of them snarled, bow in hand with an arrow already notched.

The Courier paused, blinking behind his visor, as he moved to go help bandage one of the wounded villagers.

An arrow struck his helmet, clattering uselessly to the ground as he looked in annoyance.

"bugger off." The Ranger Sequoia was raised, and a single round was fired as it struck the bow dead center, penetrating the wood as the bow splintered into two. The discontent scattered, crawling away in fear from the demon that was invulnerable, to the point that arrows had little to no effect to the man itself.

"Sir?" A foot lightly tapped his helmet as the Courier woke up groggily. Third Recon had arrived finally, it seemed; the discontent glaring at them as they patrolled the ruins, stacking away the debris.

"Report, trooper." Private Wilkins nodded.

"We've managed to decipher some of the language so far; the elves declared that we, as invaders, had invaded their sanctuary and are to leave immediately." The Courier shrugged.

"Fine with me." Wilkins furrowed his eyebrows.

"But sir, if that dragon attacks-" Six cut him off.

"Then it ain't our problem, trooper. They don't want to join the NCR, then we leave 'em in the dust." The trooper swallowed, and nodded.

"Yes sir." as the trooper scurried off, the Courier sighed in disappointment.

Third Recon was full of bleeding hearts.


	4. For Those We Cherish

AN: Sorry about that. Didn't realize till someone commented on it. should be fixed now

Their next destination was supposedly a large settlement nearby, important enough to have defensive walls. However, they had been sent a message by the General himself to return with whatever information they had.

And thus, Third Recon made it's way back to the now labeled 'Coda' village, the Sherman taking point as the APC's followed from behind, rumbling along the dirt path. The Courier stuck with the shock troopers this time; He had a feeling Wilkins needed some time to stew over, after the Lieutenant's decision to abandon them as well.

And so, he was currently having a conversation with Knight Sergeant Khris and Sergeant Vance, who lead the shock trooper detachment assigned to the unit.

"I've seen trees before in holotapes, and from archives; but never in person." Knight Sergeant Khris remarked, as he peered out the bulletproof window to watch the trees go by.

"Makes it easier to build things, I guess. Probably can use it to manufacture more things as well." Sergeant Vance grunted, as he cleaned his 7.62mm machinegun with care. Several cases adorned an ammo hold; The Courier read off incendiary, Explosive, Armor-Piercing, Hollow Point, and Standard from each case. Power Armored equipped troops were rather well armed; the Courier mused, as he took note of the Fat Man and missile launchers on a weapon rack.

"You're all... rather well supplied." The Courier remarked, and the Knight Sergeant laughed.

"You should have seen the Brotherhood when it was at it's prime. Weapons that you could only dream of." Sergeant Vance scowled.

"Technology that could kill hundreds if in the wrong hands." The Knight Sergeant chuckled.

"Lighten up, Vance. I doubt that there would be anyone who would abuse technology in this age."

Elsewhere, in the Commonwealth, a baby who should not have been able to even do so while in cryogenic stasis sneezed.

In a attempt to change th conversation, the Courier interrupted.

"What do you think of this world?" The Knight Sergeant shrugged.

"It feels as if we've been given a second chance. Humanity as a whole." Sergeant Vance nodded.

"A chance to repent for the sins of our forefathers." the Courier glanced out the window, as he saw a massive dark blur outside the viewport.

"Contact! Right above us!" he heard the panicked voice of Lieutenant Itami from the radio, and felt a jarring shudder as the transmission was cut off with a scream and silence.

"Third Recon; as the only Veteran Ranger in this convoy, I hereby take command. Evasive manuevers!" as the APCs jolted from the path into the forest, he began to pray.

"I plead to you, my Lord, to guide the journey of my comrades to Heaven. Amen." The APC swerved as they dodged another blast of fire, and Six finally got a good look at what it was.

It was the motherfucking dragon from earlier.

"Fuck. It's the dragon again." Their APC swerved to dodge the slagged remains of the sherman, as the Courier pointedly tried to look away from the charred corpse that had tried to claw its way out of the hatch. Knight Sergeant Khris gave a sorrowful look as they roared past the tank.

"May they find peace in the afterlife."

The temperature inside the APC increased by several degrees as they narrowly dodged another burst of fire, the 45mm gun on the APC firing at the dragon ahead with APCR rounds.

"Knight Sergeant!" the Courier kicked a gatling laser over, as the Knight Sergeant picked it up and nodded.

"Provide covering fire! All units; disembark and engage with Anti-Armor weapons!" The APCS swerved to a stop, as troopers rolled out with grenade and missile launchers, the Knight Sergeant opening fire with his gatling laser. The Courier materialized his Anti-Material Rifle, VATS activating as he climbed to the top of the APC. Time slowed down to a crawl; the dragon was highlighted in a orange silhouette, as the pip-boy attached to his arm calculated the chances to hit in milliseconds. In a flash, a .50 incendiary round struck the dragon in the eye, roasting it as the high caliber round tore into the unprotected flesh.

"Fire on the eyes! Now!" bullets and lasers struck the dragon's head, as it roared in pain, clawing it's missing eye as it tried to bat them away. Sergeant Vance fired his gauss rifle, a supersonic slug tearing into the dragon's maw as it roared, and began trying to fly away. The dragon hauled itself into the air and flew off to god knows where.

"Hoorah!"

"Don't fuck with the NCR!" the troopers cheered, as the dragon disappeared from sight, out of the treeline.

"Everyone, back into the APCs! We have to move, now!" The entire forest had been lit on fire, as embers crackled and trees fell over, casting a hellish landscape. The Courier tossed himself just in time as a rather large tree came crashing down, his pipboy unhelpfully telling him that the tree had been an oak tree.

"Crewman! Haul ass back to headquarters, stat!" the Sergeant barked, as the convoy geared into full speed out of the flaming woods.

Hastily constructed walls came into view as they drove past walls of trenches and sandbags, eventually reaching a concrete wall guarded by various troopers and turrets. Rows after rows of barracks and various buildings had been constructed, as the Courier glanced at what seemed to be a armory, with crates full of weapons being carted off into it. The convoy stopped at a security check, as he exited the apc.

"Mr. Courier!" the guard stood up, surprised.

"It's good to see you. Where's Lieutenant Itami?" the Courier shook his head.

"He bought the farm." the guard winced, and sighed.

"First casualties, huh? Damn…" the guard checked something off of a clipboard, and waved his arm.

"Let em in!" the gate swung open, as the remaining convoy rolled into Headquarters. Troopers patrolled the area in groups of three, as what he could only assume to be fresh recruits ran drills in a large courtyard. For many, this would be their first deployment; many had given their lives at the Second Battle of Hoover Dam, and the surviving veterans had mostly all departed for home.

Those that stayed were now hardened veterans; they were easily recognizable by their newly issued .45 caliber pistols, the words _Unless We Forget_ engraved on the side. The flat troopers helmets that had been phased out a few months ago still stayed on their heads, and they had a certain air of confidence and pride; and a weariness, of being tossed into another war. The Courier strode through the newly established base of operations, making his way past numerous checkpoints, machine gun nests, and sandbags until he reached the Head of Operations.

"Ah. Courier Six. General Oliver's expecting you." a secretary remarked as he entered.

"Right this way." They went to the far wall, where two Shock troopers stood guard over a staircase leading downstairs. The command center was busy; troopers scrambled as they ran about, carrying reports as General Oliver stood in the middle of it all, a cigar in hand as he read over a report.

"General. The Courier's here to see you." a lieutenant reported, as the General laid the cigar to rest, as he got up from his chair.

"Courier. I'm sure glad to see you." The General glanced over, noticing the missing Lieutenant.

"Where's Lieutenant Itami?" Six spoke.

"KIA after a rather large… flying lizard breathed fire and slagged our tank in a inferno." Oliver winced.

"Damn. Our first casualties in this theater…" the General scratched his neck.

"Well then. I'll have to give this to you, I guess." The General straightened up, as he began to begin a briefing.

"I need you to make contact with nearby town. Locals call it Italica, and it supposedly is one of the major trading hubs of this so called Empire. We're here to make friends, not enemies. If you can convince them to change sides, then it'll be a godsend; otherwise, war will be inevitable." The Courier nodded, finger twitched on the Sequoia in it's holster.

"Alright." The Courier moved to leave, and the General stopped him.

"And Six. Good job out there. Thank you for trying your best to keep my men safe."


	5. In which the Grim Reaper is overrated

The ride to Italica was a uneventful one; the mechanics were kind enough to lend him a motorbike, and he roared his way towards the walled settlement, the wind ripping at his duster. Within around three clicks however, he noticed what appeared to be smoke coming from the town, and rushed towards it. What appeared to be a large formation of bandits attempted to breach the walls, as the Courier killed his bike within a few feet, a massive weapon materializing in his hands, his arms assisted by the cybernetics enhancements.

"Hey! One of them's out here! Let's get 'im!" one of them shouted, and they charged towards him with shields raised and swords ready.

"May God forgive me for my sins, for they are many-" The AVENGER began to spin, as the bandits got closer.

"and many shall fall before my hands, staining his creation with blood." 30mm rounds tore them apart, as the weapon designed to obliterate tanks shredded apart people with ease.

"Run! Warn the others-" The man that attempted to flee was shredded apart, as the Courier took aim at the battering ram and fired, the siege weapon breaking into splinters. Where once was a sizable force of a thousand men, there was nothing but corpses as the ground drank their blood, the field of green becoming a field of red-

The Courier turned around, AVENGER already dissipating into motes of data as the Sequoia rose, a booming shot echoing the now silent field as the last survivor was killed from a .45-70 caliber round to the cranium. He turned around, activating his speakers as he shouted up the the men on the battlements.

"I request an audience with the governor of this town." There was no reply, and so the Courier walked towards the double doors with a slow gait, as the doors swung open and he was met with a formation of spears.

"Halt! Who are you, and what business do you have here?"

"I come from the land torn by war; from the world on the other side of the Gate."

"The enemy at Alnus hill?"

"To think they were capable of such destruction!"

"We're doomed!" He walked forward, as the spears trembled.

"Bring me your sickly, your wounded, your disfigured; and I shall grant them a miracle, one from God himself." He strode forward, as the formation broke apart, the militia staring at him in awe as he walked forward, and seemingly regrew the arm of a watchman who had the misfortune to be near the siege ladders when the bandits came.

"Please sir! Save my son!" The Courier glanced at the frantic mother, who carried her son in her arms; a quick diagnosis with a intelligence check of 10 revealed that he had a rather nasty wound that had inflamed, and so the Courier injected a stimpak directly on the wound as the boy sighed with relief, the wound rapidly disappearing within moments as the child began to breathe normally.

"He's the son of god." a townsman whispered, as they watched in awe as he cured what many believed to be impossible to recover from.

"People of Italica, Lend me your ears!" Although the language was rather new to him, he had adapted quickly as he began to speak.

"I hail from the New California Republic, from the other side of the Gate! The Saderan Empire has declared war on us by invading and killing our citizens. It is my duty, as bestowed to me by General Oliver, to either convince you to join or die; Become a citizen of the NCR, and we will protect you from the dangers that lurk beyond the walls; All will be free in the Republic, for what we pursue is Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness." He gestured to the now empty stimpak, as he waved it for all of them to see.

"This is no magic! This is produced by man, through countless struggles of never ending war and death and has the power to save someone from the brink of death." The townspeople pushed towards him, hands reaching for the savior standing atop a stack of crates.

"However, those that choose to oppose us will be met with death; Desolation will rain from the skies, as the world is burned in an eternal fire for years to come." He materialized a flagstaff, the two headed bear materializing in a flash of code as he raised it into the air.

"Those who wish to join, plead to your governor to sue for peace; those that wish to oppose the republic, can show their distaste." Two heavily plated knights strode forward, as the townspeople quieted and parted. He pressed his communicator on his helmet.

"General, I've made contact. They'll most likely wish to have an audience."

"Alright, Six. I'm coming with a fleet of vertibirds. Stay put." The radio cut off, as the Courier stood, and stared in shock as a girl no older than 11, walked forward with what he could tell was a facade of bravery.

"Hail Countess Myui, governor of Italica!" He stared, as he realized who exactly she was.

The Legion commander who led the attack on Freeside. The man he had ended before his very eyes, as he begged for mercy while clutching a small straw doll.

"Are you the governor of this town?" Six questioned, and she nodded.

"My father has not returned from the other side of the gate. I fear that he has fallen-" The Courier dug around in his pockets, and produced the straw doll and handed it to her.

"I hope that this provides some closure. You're father fought bravely to defend his men as they retreated." She froze.

"Sadly, he was killed in combat when our forces opened fire. I apologize for any misgivings this may cause." The roar of engines caught their attention, as the Courier turned around to see a trio of Vertibirds flying in formation as they landed in the courtyard. The General strode out, 9mm pistol in it's holster as he moved to meet them. Shock troopers in power armor entered formation behind him, as they marched towards him and the countess, much to the awe of the townspeople. General Oliver strode out, hand outstretched in greeting.

"Greetings. I hope that Six wasn't too much for you." the Courier rolled his eyes behind his elite riot helmet, and stood guard next to the general.

"I am General Lee Oliver, in command of the 1st NCR Expeditionary Army. If possible, I would like to… talk about diplomatic matters. Preferably with less bloodshed. And in private." The Countess nodded, and gestured for them to follow her.

"Courier, I want you to go scout for any counterattacks. Your little 'stunt' most likely attracted some wrong attention." the General ordered, and he nodded.  
"Yessir." He stalked off, revolver spinning around his fingers absentmindedly as he made his way to the gate.

"Was that?…"

"Yup. It's the Hero of the Mojave."

"Damn. Could have gotten his autograph."

Countess Myui had agreed to Oliver's terms, in which the town of Italica would be independent, but still be under NCR jurisdiction. Troopers patrolled the streets, as the city became a bustling hub for trade with the Republic beyond the Gate. Headquarters had rapidly become a massive city in several weeks; Military police patrolled the newly established streets, as refugees and citizens poured in, enjoying the newly built and bustling city protected by the NCR. All of this was unknown to the Courier, who was currently several hundred miles away on a dirt road from Italica. Night fell upon the world, as the red glare lit on, thermal and night vision turning on automatically. In the distance, what appeared to be a large group of human figures sitting around what he assumed to be a fire.

Then, what shouldn't have been possible occurred.

Their signatures were rapidly fading; as if they were being murdered violently one by one. A inhuman figure, barely possible for the Courier's cybernetic eyes to track, watched as it seemingly cleaved one of the figures in half. Drawing his Sequoia, he walked towards the scene with caution. For all he knew, it could have been a deathclaw; to not be cautious was to be suicidal. As he came closer to the site, the fire suddenly disappeared as the Courier whipped around, Sequoia pointed squarely at the now identified figure at the forehead.

"You'd better start explaining who you are fast, or else your face is going to become a mess." The headlight on his helmet flashed on, the thermal and nightvision toggling off as he inspected the figure he held at gunpoint.

And then, he realized the massive halberd that was poised at his neck as well, and swore under his breath. If he pulled the trigger, it would decapitate him with a single twitch. He materialized a plasma grenade in his other hand, finger on the pin as he stared warily.

"Allow me to introduce myself. I am Rory Mercury, Apostle of the God Emroy. As to why I am here… You interest me." The Courier stood his ground.

"I don't believe I've done anything of notice." She gave him a unsettling grin.

"The blood on your hands suggest otherwise." She pressed against him, pushing her forehead against the barrel as she appraised him.

"Tell me, how did it feel? To walk as a god among men, to decide the fate of thousands?" Six's grip on the plasma grenade clenched, as he stared at the now declared Apostle.

"What do you want?"

"Simple. I wish to accompany you on your journey." He shook his head.

"Denied. For all I know, you're helping the Empire." She snorted.

"I'm a demigoddess. What would I have to gain from supporting an Empire?" His revolver stayed in place against her forehead.

"Your weapon will have no effect on me, Courier Six. I am immortal." Six frowned.

"How do you know my name?"

"Emroy told me. Obviously." He sighed, lowering his hand as he dematerialized the plasma grenade in hand.

"And why does this so called 'God' have such an interest in me?"

"For Emroy is the God of Death; and for you to have taken so many lives without repercussion intrigues him."

"I have no interest in carrying out the whims of another God." He turned to leave, but was stopped by a small hand tugging on his duster. He turned as he saw the apostle for the first time; a young girl around thirteen, covered in blood, as she gave him a pouting look.

 _A child, frozen in place as he stared at the charred corpses of his parents, as everything he knew burned to ashes-_

"Fine." Six snapped angrily, and stalked off, thermals and nightvision flickering back on. She skipped along next to him, as the now established duo left, walking away to a world unknown.


	6. An Amnesiac kidnapper

The first thing that the Courier noted, was that Rory was an annoying companion.

Nevermind that Boone was quiet, or Cass was pessimistic, or even Veronica, with her bright and loud attitude.

The major problem was how it seemed as if Rory was constantly aroused simply by being in his vicinity.

"Rory, I'd appreciate if you didn't make such noises while I'M TRYING TO SLEEP!" Six barked, as Rory let out another quiet moan. The Courier groaned in disappointment; he couldn't sleep at all, with constant moans of arousal coming from five feet away.

Hopefully, it would end by the next morning.

The silence was maddening.

They had entered a massive flatland, and all of the animals had suddenly become quiet. As the Courier listened closely, the earth began to tremble; and he drew his Sequoia as several riders came into view, dressed in full plate armor.

"Halt! where do you come from, and state your buisness." The Courier cleared his throat, hand on his revolver as he spoke.

"We come from Italica."

"The enemy from the gate!" The riders drew their swords, completely forgetting about Rory who gave an amused look to the knights before them.

"Am I allowed to shoot, or are you going to-" Rory licked her lips, and simply stood her ground. Six sighed, revolver sliding back into it's holster as the horse charged, sword swinging towards him;

and he simply ducked and grabbed it's flank, throwing it aside with a grunt of effort as the horse and it's rider went sprawling. The Sequoia spun into his right hand in one quick motion, as he grabbed the rider and held her at gunpoint.

"Lay down your weapons, or I'm splattering her brains onto the ground."

"Lady Pina!" One of them, a blonde, stepped forward, sword in hand as she took a stance. She was visibly furious.

"How dare you lay a hand on royalty! You barbarian!" The Courier stood, offended. (AN: Sneering Imperialist perk)

"You savages have royalty?" He gave an incredulous look behind his riot helmet. She snapped, and charged with a battlecry, as the Courier simply spun and dodged, the now discovered princess still in his arm.

"Nice try. Now, am I going to have to put you all down like the tribals you are, or do you understand an idea called 'Diplomacy'?" The princess struggled in his arms.

"Let me go!"

"But I'd never let you go, my dear~" Her face flushed, as he shifted the gun away from the princess and towards them.

"Now, can we discuss like civilized beings? Or I just might take your princess and run off-" He ducked under a swing, and the revolver barked once, a loud thunderclap as a horse toppled over, it's rider falling off with it.

"Bozes!" The Sequoia snapped towards the fallen rider, her blonde head in his ironsights as he spoke.

"Order your knights to stand down, Princess, or else I will be forced to execute every single one of them." Rory watched impassively, most likely upset that there wouldn't be much more bloodshed.

"Everyone, please! Stand down!"

"But Piña!" She gave a desperate look.

"Please!" Swords slowly clattered to the ground, and the Courier let go.

"Good. Now, what are you doing in NCR territory? Refugees? or some holy order that's supposed to kill demons?" Piña smoothed out her 'combat' skirt as she spoke.

"We are tasked to eliminate a demon from the other side of the gate. Reports say that he has glowing red eyes, and is able to kill with a magical rod-" Bozes elbowed her in the side, and pointed at the amused Courier.

"Whelp, you caught me. I'm the Courier, the 'Hero' of the Mojave and the NCR." A brown haired girl picked up her sword, standing protectively in front of the princess.

"You've killed hundreds of men within weeks. Countless brave imperial soldiers. What say you in your defense?" The Courier paused.

"To be honest, they were terrible. If I wanted, I could have simply dismembered them with their own swords. A single NCR trooper can kill thirty of your legionnaires until he has to reload. Your men would all die before even reaching close enough to throw their spears." The knight bristled, her hands clenched around the hilt of her sword.

"Hamilton, stand down."

"But Princess Piña! He-"

"He is the enemy, Hamilton. And considering the losses the Empire suffered so far, He must be speaking the truth." As the knights discussed, The Courier secretly keyed his radio.

"This is the Courier, calling for the nearest patrol. I have a high profile target in custody. Requesting for support."

"This is Headquarters; all units are busy at the moment. You're on your own, Courier." the radio cut off, and he swore.

"Regardless of your hospitality, you must be apprehended as an enemy of the state. Please come with us quietly." the Princess stated, as they all had their swords drawn.

"Rory?" The Courier materialized a small, metal object in his hands.

"Hmm?"

"Close your eyes." He unpinned the grenade and dropped it at his feet, as he polarized his visor from the searing light that flashed.

"My eyes!"

"I can't see!"

The Courier grabbed the blinded princess and Rory, bailing out of there faster than the Brotherhood of Steel from Nevada.

"Let me go!"

"The princess!"

"After him!" the motorbike was still there, leaned against the ground, as the Courier tugged it up and revved the engine, chucking the princess in his lap as he pulled Rory behind.

"Hold on!" the bike roared, and they tore off through the grasslands, as a group of angry female knights chased after him, gradually disappearing from sight.

"Let me go!" The princess attempted to smack him in the chest with her elbow, and hurt herself instead as her arm impacted against his ceramic armor plate.

"No can do, princess."

"What is this magic?" Rory gave a curious look at the bike, as the Courier grinned.

"It's good ol' science. Ain't no magic where I'm from." The bike roared off a hill, catching some air as the princess screamed in terror while the Courier screamed in joy. He hadn't felt so free since... forever.

They had hauled ass back to Italica, as the Courier unceremoniously cut off the bike as he stopped just inside the gates.

"Look, it's the princess!"

"What is she doing here?"

"The priestess is here as well!" Children swarmed the apostle, as they tugged her arm to go and play.

"Go ahead, Rory. I'll go find you later." The apostle sighed and nodded, smiling as she followed the children away.

"And now for you, miss Piña, I do hope you'll keep me company." She growled at him.

"I won't tell you anything." The Courier sighed.

"You aren't under arrest or anything. Just a talk. I'm mostly a freelancer anyways." She stood still, refusing to budge.

"Don't act like a child. You're what, sixteen?" She huffed, looking away.

"I'm nineteen."

"Then start acting like one." They passed a squad of troopers, most likely on leave; as they pointed at him and whispered amongst each other.

"Mister Courier! Sir!" He turned to glance.

"trooper." He addressed, holding Piña by her arm.

"Can I get your autograph?" The Courier grabbed the trooper's helmet, and hastily scribbled a six and tossed it back.

"Here. Now scramble off." The troopers scattered off, as he began to walk away, tugging the princess along with him. They stopped before what appeared to be a tavern; the bricks were new, most likely meaning that it had been recently constructed. The Courier pushed the door open, gesturing for Piña to take a seat. A barmaid came over, as she came to take their orders. The Courier gave a surprised glance at the barmaid, who sported a pair of… bunny ears? He tugged off his helmet and looked again, much to the surprise of everyone in the tavern.

"Um… sir?" the barmaid fidgeted, and he shook his head and leaned back. It seemed that the people here were much different than what he expected as well.

"I'll have a platter of fries." He gruffly stated, as the barmaid continued to gawk.

"What? I got something on my face?" His face was littered with scars from past engagements, from Centurions to deathclaws.

"Nothing sir. It's just-" He grabbed a bar of gold he got from Sierra Madre, and pushed it over to her.

"Here's my payment." The entire tavern went silent, as the Princess scooted away from him as far as possible. The barmaid nodded, picked up the gold bar, and promptly left for the kitchen with their orders as the tavern resumed it's noise once more. Six set his helmet to his left, as he kicked back.

"Alright. Now, tell me where it all began."

"My first contact with the… En-See-Ar was when our group spotted the decayed remains of a patrol." She paused and retched, as if remembering what she saw.

"The bodies were riddled with holes; as if they had been pierced with many things at once. Some were even missing arms…" The Courier nodded.

"automatic service rifles chambered in 5.56 ammunition tends to tear through metal armor like paper." She flinched, but steeled herself and continued.

"We were horrified by an enemy. One that was capable of killing hundreds of men with no repercussion, an enemy capable of destroying us in the blink of an eye; and many wondered if we continued on this quest, that we would suffer the same fate to be carrion for scavengers-" She was cut off when their meals arrived, as the barmaid laid down a platter of fries and what appeared to be a bowl of stew for the princess. The Courier materialized a sunset sarsaparilla, flicking off the cap as he took a sip.

"Continue."

"As we rode through what appeared to be a burnt out forest, we discovered a massive slagged heap of what appeared to be metal, and we also found bodies…" The Courier slammed his drink down.

"Where did you find them?" As if she had found an opportunity, she shook her head.

"We will compromise." The sound of a revolver being drawn could barely be heard, as she felt something cold and hard press against her chest.

"You do not bargain for the honored dead. Now tell me; Where are they?"

"They've been carried away by the Empire, for tests-" The hammer cocked down, as the revolver was poised to fire.

"Well then. Seems that we will have to go and take a trip to the General, after all." He reached for his radio, only for a hand to grab his wrist.

"Please, don't! I'll do anything for my fellow countrymen!" The Courier paused, as a figure from a life he had left long ago came back to haunt him.

" _Remember son, to be forgiving; or else you just might one day regret it."_

" _I_ _t's you and me, now, okay? You and me. But that's fine. So long as we've got each other, that's all that matters._ _"_ The Courier shook his head, clearing his memories. Painful memories, of ones he wanted to forget;

"Fine. But you will help me recover them for a proper burial." She nodded, as set the revolver on the table next to him, and hurriedly finished his meal. Their mealtime was spent in quiet; As the princess sneaked glances at her kidnapper, and felt both repulsive and attracted; repulsed because of his willingness to kill, and attracted to his looks. He was rugged and covered in scars; and yet, his hands had been gentle, as if she were fragile.

"So. Mister-"

"Just call me Six. Everyone important does." He took a sip.

"Alright then. What have you done throughout your life?" He glanced out the window, at the rapidly darkening sky.

"I killed people for the sake of saving people." He took a sip.

"In the wastelands, you were viable to get shot or stabbed if you weren't careful enough. I tried to end it for everyone; to make peace with all of the people of the capital wasteland."

"It sounds like a nice dream." She remarked, and he chuckled.

"Exactly. Just a dream from a naive boy, who had no idea of how the world even worked." He took another sip.

"But in the world of what's left, in order to save a life, you have to take one. To save ten would mean to kill one. To save the people of all of the Capital wasteland, I had to kill hundreds."

"a group known as the Enclave were attempting to enact a purge by poisoning a pump that would have brought clean water to all of the Capital wasteland." His eyes hardened.

"In order to save hundreds of thousands that lived there, I had to destroy an entire group." He stared off at the wall, as they came flashing back-

 _Damn it private, hold on!_

 _Just leave me damn it! He's coming!_

 _Please, spare him-_

"I still regret what I did on that day."


	7. A Hero of the Mojave and the Grim Reaper

After a light meal, the Courier hitched a ride with a convoy heading back to Headquarters, princess in tow. The ride back was rather calm; they passed the occasional patrol, but otherwise there was nothing of importance.

At least, wouldn't have until they passed by a regiment practicing their drills. Piña looked horrified as she stared at the shermans firing downrange, as infantry practiced kicking in doors and clearing rooms. In the distance, the roar of artillery could be heard as siege companies practiced their drills.

"What kind of enemy has the Empire angered?" A trooper sitting across from her gave a dumb grin.

"The kind that's been kicking everyone's ass since the past thirty years, missy." He gave a lecherous grin.

"Though I can get a piece of that, don't you think guys?" The APC was filled with chuckles, until a voice cut in.

"She's with me." The trooper glanced and did a double take, as a terrifying red glare and the familiar heavily armored duster came into view.

"Oh. uh..."

"We'll pretend this never happened."

"Yes sir." The trooper stared at his feet, as snickers filled the air. He pulled her closer, as she glanced around in fear at the troopers in their seats.

"It's fine. Nobody will dare to hurt you in my presence." The APC eventually stopped, as the ramp opened.

"Welcome back home, boys." The driver's voice crackled through the speaker, as the Princess got her first view of the enemy beyond the gate. Personnel were everywhere; mechanics running around to repair various engines and suits of power armor, as imposing watchtowers outfitted with machine guns overlooked the massive concrete walls that guarded the entire area. Vertibirds landed and took off, as they carried Power armored shock troopers to most likely eliminate enemy camps.

All of that was ignored, however, when he spotted a jeep exiting from the gate, a recognizable face in the shotgun seat.

"Ambassador Crocker!" Six greeted, the princess in tow.

"Ah, Mister Courier! It's good to see you again." The ambassador greeted, as he climbed off the jeep and thanked the driver. He raised an eyebrow.

"And who is this? Another one of your companions?" The Princess blushed.

"No sir. She's the princess of the Saderan Empire, otherwise known as 'them'." The Ambassador nodded, and gave a friendly smile.  
"Don't worry, your highness. Nobody will harm you here. In fact, I'll make sure to tell the General to assign the Courier as your bodyguard." Six did a double take.

"What, but sir-"  
"No buts. Someone as important as her would no doubt be a target to slavers, raiders, and most of all, Legion." The Courier sighed.

"Understood, sir." Crocker smiled, and gestured to what most likely was his new office.

"Come in, take a seat. As a representative of the NCR, we can have diplomatic talks." They passed two troopers guarding the doors, gulping when the Courier glanced at them both. They shut the doors behind them as they entered, and Six plopped himself down on a couch and popped off his helmet. Crocker took a seat at his desk, and gestured for the Princess to sit down.

"Come. Take a seat and relax." The princess slowly sat down, and Crocker clasped his hands together.

"Now, for introductions. I am Ambassador Dennis Crocker, in charge of foreign relations between the NCR and the residents of the Special Region." The Courier translated to the princess, who nodded slowly.

"As you may know, the Saderan Empire had attacked and kidnapped several of our citizens. Although we seek reparations, we are willing to have any diplomatic talks." The Courier translated once more, and Piña visibly calmed down.

"To be honest with you, the senate wants blood. They want to start another war once again, simply because the enemy this time is too weak to fight." The Courier looked at the ambassador, alarmed. Crocker sighed.

"Yes, Six. It's going to be like the Khans all over again." His gloved hands gripped into fists; He had never forgiven the NCR for their betrayal, after he had promised the Great Khans peace. The NCR had stormed in, and massacred them all in another Bitter Springs massacre.

He had executed the politican who had bribed to give that order, the terrifying red glare being the last thing the poor sop would ever see.

"And so, I give you an offer. I wish for you to make a appearance before the Senate, and also for us to visit your father, the Emperor of the Saderan Empire." The princess looked conflicted; and Crocker smiled warmly.

"I can understand that it's a big decision. Take as much time as you like." There was a rapid knock on the door, and the Courier slipped his helmet back on.

"Come in." The doors swung open, as General Oliver entered, and glanced at the princess.

"Is this her?" The Courier nodded, as the princess looked in fear. Crocker stood up from his seat.

"General, she's a guest-" He snarled.

"She's a royal family member of the enemy. The enemy, that slaughtered some of my men and enslaved countless citizens. Like hell I'd-" Six stood up, standing between the General.

"Courier, step aside. That's an order." Six shook his head.

"You tend to forget; I'm not on anyone's payroll, General. I answer directly to Chief Hanlon of the Rangers, and even then, I'm a freelancer." The General shook in rage, and eventually deflated.

"We've been getting reports of NCR citizens being sold off in auctions like cattle, Six. You've seen what Slavers do. You know what will happen to those innocent souls." The Courier visibly gripped the grip of his Sequoia, but stood his ground.

"And I believe that interrogation against her is unnecessary, General. If she knew anything, she would have spilled by now." He glanced out the window, and noticed what seemed to be a commotion outside. Checking his pip-boy, he made to move out the room.

"Courier, we aren't done yet."

"You can interrogate one of the Legion centurions then. Or, if you need to-" The General sighed.

"You aren't allowed to interrogate on prisoners anymore, considering that they die shortly afterwards." Six shrugged as he left.

"Still gets results."

As the Courier exited the building, he made his way over to the commotion, right hand resting on his revolver.

"What's going on here?" the troopers saluted.

"Courier, sir!" He glanced over their shoulders and noticed who it was.

"Oh. It's you again." The sergeant in command did a double take.

"You know her sir?" The Courier paused, as he thought of a way to bluff her in.

"She's my adopted daughter." The scathing look Rory gave him was positively murderous.

"Uh..." The troopers paused, and he gave them a glare.

"If you say so, sir." The Sergeant turned towards his troopers.

"Alright! Let her through!" The troopers let her pass, as she walked up to him with the most sweetest smile.

And promptly kicked him in the groin, causing him to double over.

"Sheesh, What kind of kid is that?"

"Takes after her father too much."

The glare the Courier gave them was positively murdererous, as the troopers scurried away back to their posts.  
"Now. What are you here for?"

"Visiting." The Courier sighed.

"Really." She spun around on her heels, completely carefree.

"I'm here to visit my loving father, after all." Six ignored her, and continued walking back to the embassy, as Rory stepped in line behind him, and grasped his hand. She gave him a innocent look, as the Courier sighed and gave up. The secretary gave him a strange look, as the duo walked past, towards the ambassador's office. He rapped his knuckles against the door, and a muffled reply of 'Come in' was heard. The door swung open, revealing the now relaxed General on the couch as the princess sat across from him, Crocker visibly upset.

"Six, who the hell is this?" Crocker demanded, and the Courier sighed.

"As of ten minutes ago, this is my adopted daughter." The ambassdor grabbed his head in frustaration.

"And? what else? is there?"

"She's also supposedly nine hundred and ninety five years old." the ambassador groaned.

"Damnit, I'm an ambassador, not a doctor!" the Courier walked across, and sat Rory down on the sofa next to the princess.

"Moving onto the mission at hand. The senate wants to have diplomacy, though they'll most likely support for war."

"However, if the public believes that peaceful coexistence is possible, then the senate will have no choice but to pursue peace. With the NCR still licking it's wounds from the battle with the Legion, I'd say peace is for the best." The Courier grunted.

"I hate politics."

For Thomas Crawson of the 402nd Infantry battalion, it was a shitty day.

Ever since they'd been deployed from Headquarters to build up a firebase around thirty kilometers away, they'd been building up fortifications along with the engineers of the 4th Engineer Battalion. All they'd been doing was construction, all day long, with no action whatsoever and shitty rations as usual. Private Gered and Corporal Naomi spent the time playing caravan, as their now complete firebase was now officially the most boring deployment of all time.

"Hey Thomas! You see anything?" And of course, he had been saddled with watch duty. He peered over the open field, all the way to the forest on the edge.

"Do you fucking think there's anything? No! What did you think?!" He hollered back over his shoulder.

"Dunno. Thought I heard something."

"Yeah. In your fucking head."

"Shut the fuck up." He turned with his binoculars again, and noticed what appeared to be a banner of some sort.

"Fuck. I've got contact! Sound the damn alarms!" Private Gered toppled out of his seat and smacked the button, as a klaxon began to blare.

"To your posts! No lollygaggin!" Their Lieutenant Colonel, Wallace bellowed, His extended ripper hanging by his belt. The enemy formation appeared in full force, and Thomas gulped.

"It's a whole damned army." Naomi whispered, as she gripped her service rifle.

"Headquarters reports that air support will be on it's way in ten minutes! Until then, we need to hold on!" Wallace yelled, as they opened fire on the enroaching formation. Bullets tore through their shields and armor like paper, as the army began it's charge.

"Fuck! Gered! machine gun!" Thomas yelled, his rank as Sergeant and as acting CO of their fireteam giving him the authority.

"Yes sir!" The light machine gun opened fire, as 5.56 rounds began to rain upon the enemy formation. Enemy legionnaires attempted to duck or run out of cover as Gered gunned them down mercilessly.

"How do you like that, you legion bastards!?" He hollered, as the legionnaires cowered on the ground.

"Tossing a frag!" Naomi chucked a fragmentation grenade up and over, as it rolled into a group of legionnaires and blew them apart, arms and legs everywhere. Shrapnel flew everywhere, as the troopers ducked behind their cover from the steel rain that seemed to come from everywhere.

"Fuck fuck fuck!" Thomas smacked Gered on the head as he began to shake.

"Hold it together, and keep firing on those bastards!" A stray spear plowed into the dirt next to them, as Naomi fired blindly over the trench. He fixed his bayonet onto his rifle, as he thrust madly over the dirt and stabbed a legionnaire violently in the chest.

"Die you fucks! Die!" Gered started firing again, as the legionnaires attempted to move out of the way or hide behind their shields.

"Hold on!" He yelled, as the wind picked up, and the roar of engines could be heard.

"This is 4th Squadron, moving in to provide air support. Hold on boys, We're comin'!" Miniguns roared as the vertibirds made their way over the battlefield, the panicking legionnaires providing easy targets for the door gunners.

"The gods are punishing us!"

"Retreat! Sound the retreat!" An officer screamed, until he was mowed down alongside thirty others from 5.56 rounds. The proud enemy force of what had to be in thousands, was left of only a several hundred as they attempted to flee back into the forest.

Or at least, tried to.

"AFTER THEM! REMEMBER FREESIDE!" Wallace screamed, Ripper roaring as he caught an unlucky legionnaire by his neck and shredded apart his innards, firing his sidearm with another. Troopers emerged from trenches, firing at the retreating figures. Something grabbed his foot as he attempted to run after his subordinates, and he glanced down to see what appeared to be a dying legionnaire pleading for help.

" _Please, help me…"_ Thomas kicked his hand off, and fired a few bullets into the man's torso before running off.

"Damn tribals."


	8. Of Lives Lost and the Undead

The recent major engagement at the newly established Firebase Bravo proved several things;

One, in which the Legion they faced was much more organized than a bunch of tribals.

Two, It was most likely a completely different dimension (much to the Brotherhood's confusion)

and Three, the enemy was hopelessly outmatched against their firearms.

With this in mind, The Senate split between two factions; The Doves promoted peaceful coexistence and eventual integration to the NCR, while the warhawks wished to simply purge them for daring to attack their territory.

None of this mattered to the ones who did the actual fighting; however; For many veterans who were bitter over Hoover Dam, The senate would simply haul it into another long war.

"Someday, I want to get away from all this killing." Staff Sergeant Brooks remarked, as he glanced over the field of strewn corpses.

"Don't think you'll be going anywhere soon, sarge." Private Hucks replied, as he gently kicked a corpse with his boot. The Staff Sergeant grunted, as he picked up a bow that had been snapped in half by a 5.56 round.

"Who the hell even uses bows and spears in this day and age? Fucking useless!" He exclaimed, chucking it across the field as it clattered away.

"Back to work, boys and girls! Time to get back to digging." Lieutenant Karls shouted across the field, and Brooks groaned.

"Fuck this deployment."

 _TIME: 16:15_

 _LOCATION: DURAN GRASSLANDS_

It was raining.

Which was amazing, considering the water wasn't toxic.

If one glanced out the porthole of the APC, they would find that they couldn't see anything at all; a massive fog had rolled into the low grasslands, covering everything in a dense fog as it rained above.

"Private! You see anything?" Brooks hollered, as the 402nd Infantry Battalion rolled through in their APCs.

"No sir! Nothing but fog."

"I don't like this…" muttered Sergeant Crawson, as he fiddled with his service rifle.

"You've ever seen those horror movies they sometimes play back at Headquarters? The one with the zombies?" Gered piped up from the corner. Naomi stiffened.

"Gered, shut up."

"And how they come out of nowhere in large numbers-" Naomi reached across the cabin and smacked him on the head, causing him to recoil.

"Ow! What the fuck was that for?!" The radio crackled.

" _Convoy! Halt!_ " The dozen or so APCs came to a stop, as the rain began to pour even harder.

"Fuck, I can't see shit!" Hucks exclaimed, as he peered through the viewport. The Staff Sergeant grabbed the infrared binoculars, as he peered through the rain. Nothing seemed to be of the ordinary; all he saw was blue, low temperature.

That is, until it suddenly moved-

"Fuck! We're surrounded!"

" _All units! Move move! Fire at will!"_

" _They're everywhere!"_

" _OH GOD!"_

"Damnit Gered, I told you to shut the fuck up!" Naomi barked, as frantic scrabbling could be heard from everywhere around the APC.

"We're all gonna die!" Someone shouted from the back, until he got smacked on the head.

"Keep it together! We're the NCR! We've fought ghouls before!" The APC's tires squealed as it tore away, machine guns blazing as they turned on the floodlights to full power.

"There's so many of them!"

"Fuck! Didn't we have flamer?"

"Fire, fuck! Fire!"

Portholes swung open as various troopers fired their rifles at the massive horde, which slogged towards them in the mud and rain. The zombies were covered in decayed cloth and scraps of armor, indicating that they had been buried for some time.

" _Fuck, they got in! OH GOD-"_ A radio cut off into static as one of the APCs came to a stop, zombies swarming it in every direction.

" _All units! Blow it up!_ " 45mm guns fired as the APC went up in flames, and Brooks prayed for the poor souls that were caught by the damned.

"Keep her moving! We don't wanna end up like them!" He glanced back at the burning wreck, and swallowed a lump in his throat.

Thirty six men. Gone in a instant.

"Fuck fuck fuck!" The APC ploughed straight into the horde, running them over at full speed as they made their way through it.

"Keep firing!"

Bullet casings began to litter the floor as spare magazines were tossed haphazardly in the cabin.

"Someone check the explosives box! We have to have a incendiary grenade somewhere!" The APC lurched as something large smashed into it, and troopers and crates were thrown across the cramped cabin.

"FUCK! What was that?!" The APC squealed away, as Thomas shoved his way past to look at what was behind them.

"What the hell is that thing?!" It loomed over the destroyed APC, roughly the same size as a super mutant Behemoth. It was a terrifying abomination; a figure of rippling decaying muscle, with glowing ethereal eyes that were entrenched on them with hate.

" _ALL UNITS! FIRE ON THAT DAMN THING!_ " They could hear the Lieutenant Colonel's voice crack in fear, as they all looked upon the abomination that necromancy had created.

"Fuck! Someone throw that Incendiary now!"

Bullets were fired into the fog, as troopers panicked and screamed in a grim chorus of horror.

"Sir! We've lost contact with the 402nd!" A officer shouted, as the General twiddled his thumbs and frowned.

"What is their last known location?"

"The Duran Grasslands, sir. We've lost contact with them shortly after they entered the fog." Oliver's face was grim; for an entire battalion to lose contact with headquarters was unheard of.

"Someone get me the Courier."

"You want me to do what?"

General Oliver sighed.

"I need you to go in their and find out what happened. There's no way an entire battalion of troopers in APCs can lose connection in an instant. Something else is at play here, and I need you to find out what the hell has taken my men." The Courier glanced at the area on the map.

"That's a field of graves." The General nodded.

"Yes, it is."

"There's no way I'm going anywhere near there." the General gave a exasperated sigh.

"Six, just-" The Courier threw his arms in the air in defeat.

"Fine, fine." He materialized a notepad and a pencil and hastily scribbled something before chucking it to the General, who caught it in his hands.

"Wha-"

"You're taking care of my adopted daughter while I go look for them. Make sure she's fed." He waved as he left for the door.

"Wait, you can't just-"

"That's your job, I have mine~" he sung as he left, Sequoia spinning around his right finger. The General's protests were drowned out as he shut the reinforced door behind him, whistling to himself as he made his way to the garage.

"Courier! What can I do for you?" He pointed at a jeep.

"Get me that jeep. I'm leaving asap." The mechanic nodded.

"Right away, sir." The closed jeep rolled forward to a stop, and the mechanic handed him the keys.

"You have my thanks, sergeant." He keyed in the ignition and rolled off, exiting the heavily defended compound as the jeep roared off across the dirt path. He attached his pip-boy to the jeep and turned on his radio, as a familiar song came on.

" _I've got spurs, that jingle, jingle jangle~"_ The Courier hummed to himself as he sped past the forests, wheels kicking up dirt as the jeep hit what he could only assume was a natural speed bump and jolted a bit. He continued for around two hours; the forests eventually became a large flat grassland that began to lower, most likely continuing to the valley that the lost battalion was located. The valley below was completely covered in a massively dense fog; the Courier toggled his helmet, the vision instantly allowing him to see through it.

And what he saw was more than terrifying.

What could have been entire armies of undead milled around below, as he spotted at least three of the original five APCs destroyed below. A massive corpse of… something lay in the middle, still attempting to rise although it was missing at least seventy five percent of it's entire body mass.

He could make out gunfire at the far side of the valley near what he assumed was a cave, with two APCs and several survivors holed around it, firing upon the enroaching zombies. His radio began to pick up signals, as he connected to their frequency.

" _Fire, fuck, fire!"_

" _Stay together! Don't let 'em bunch up!"_

" _Where's Mike?! Did anyone see him?!"_ The Legend of the Mojave tuned in and responded.

" _This is the Courier. I'm making my way over to your position. Hold on tight boys._ " He hopped back into the jeep and roared his way through, materializing an extended ripper as he slashed at the zombies that attempted to climb into the vehicle. The gunfire became louder as he made his way forward; and then proceeded to smash into what he could only assume was a massive wall of decaying flesh, as it toppled over and attempted to regain it's footing. The Courier swung out of the jeep, ripper roaring as he swung downwards at it's chest, the chainsaw sawing through it's chest cavity. The troopers cheered as it finally died, the beast toppling over.

"Score one for the NCR! Take that, you ugly piece of-" He was cut off as he ducked from a clumsy swing, firing half a clip into the zombie's face.

"Who's in charge here?" He shouted, riot shotgun blasting apart chunks from the horde.

"That would be Staff Sergeant Brooks! He's the only one left; the Lieutenant Colonel got dragged away by one of those bastards." the Courier sighed.

"Alright. I think I saw something further up; might be some controller of some sorts. You guys hold here; Hold them off for a bit." The trooper nodded as he continued firing, and the Courier materialized a flamer.

"Purge the unclean!" The flames torched everything in a fifteen foot radius, effectively turning them into smoldering corpses. He strolled off, flames torching the damned as he advanced towards the mysterious blue ethereal light. Slowly, tombstones came into view; and what he assumed was what remained of a fence lay in shambles, most likely destroyed from the large amount of undead. He drew his Ranger Sequoia and a machete, approaching the source of the nightmare.

As he drew closer, however, he could hear… was that chanting?

"Hey! Whatever it is you're doing, stop right now-" The chanting stopped abruptly, and he peered into the blinding light.

"How did you get here?"

"I burned my way through here. Stop your magic now, Or risk death at my hands." the figure raised it's hand, as skeletal figures clawed their way out of the dirt, causing the Courier to take a step back.

They were wearing NCR fatigues, still carrying their service rifles-

"You killed them." the Courier said bluntly, and the figure nodded.

"I needed more servants." The skeletal troopers fired upon the Courier, and he ducked behind a stone wall, bullets shattering against the rock. They burned through all their ammunition; and when he heard the clack of empty bolts, he moved out of cover.

Six targets. Six rounds expended, all lethal hits as the .45-70 round shattered bone and sent them back to rest. The Courier marched forward and grabbed the figure by the neck, Sequoia already reloaded as he pushed it against… her neck?

"End it now, Or I'll end it for you." The hammer cocked back, as he pressed it against her chin. The hood slipped off of her head, and his breath hitched.

"Monica? How-" a dagger struck forward, shattering against his ceramic plating as he clutched his head-

" _Morning, *****! Up and at it again!"_

 _A cheerful face, shining with brightness;_

" _*****! Help me! HEL-" A face covered in blood, lifeless and frozen as he cradled her dead body-_

"How do you know my name?" She demanded, as he gasped.

"It's me!" He tugged off his helmet, and she froze for a second, before shaking her head.

"There's no way. He died years ago." the Courier desperately grasped around his armor, tugging the necklace free.

"You gave this to me for when we meet again! Remember?!" He was desperate; clinging onto the only past he had; the only past he remembered;

 _Smiling faces as he helped the people of the wasteland, patrolling with the Brotherhood of Steel alongside Sarah-_

"The boy I knew from the vault would never turn into the Monster of Mojave." she grasped her staff, which glowed with power. He froze; he had to make a choice.

To kill her and save the lives of countless of NCR troopers and travelers, or to stay with her again.

" _Why did you build the purifier, dad?"_

" _Well son, I did it because I always wished to protect people. To save the lives of people; not a bad idea, is it?"_

He clenched his teeth as his expression became of steel.

"Goodbye, Monica." He fired, the .45-70 round penetrating her chest as it struck her heart.

"Ghurk!" she collapsed as the ethereal light blinked out of existence, and the zombies collapsed to the dirt, lifeless.

"And so, I'm alone once again…" He stared off as the fog gradually dissipated, revealing the Courier surrounded in a field of corpses once more.

A curse to take lives to save lives for a lifetime, as he wandered the wastelands and the Special Region.

The Courier walked away from the graveyard, hands stained with blood;

Unknown to him, her hands twitched.


	9. Baptized by Fire

"Damnit Oliver, I need you to tell me now; has there been a breach in the gate?" the Courier slammed his hands onto Oliver's oak desk, as the General sighed.

"Several cases of NCR citizens disappearing from our territory has been reported, yes. But I haven't gotten any reports of anyone else entering the special region." the Courier growled.

"Then tell me why people of the East Coast have been appearing in here?" the General sighed.

"Maybe it's a hallucination. Courier, I think you should take a break-"

"Hallucinations don't kill two thirds of an entire infantry battalion, General." The general furrowed his brows.

"Do you think I don't know that, Six? More than eighty men have died in this incident, due to too many unknowns. We have no idea what the people here are capable of, and this recent event only serves to prove that!" Paperwork went flying as the General stood up in rage.

"Damnit, Two thirds of the men under my command are gone in an instant without a real fight! What the hell am I supposed to do?!"

"You could have told them to prepare for the risks!" Oliver snorted.

"How the hell would I know that they would be shooting the undead?!" The General slumped into his chair, exhausted.

"To think that this would be an easy campaign..." The Courier sat down in the armchair across him, chugging a bottle of beer.

"Since when was anything an easy campaign, Oliver? The one against the Legion was a horrible one." mainly due to his incompetence, but the Courier stayed silent.

"Don't remind me. We lost too many men in that war." the General glanced at cabinet on his left, where various medals decorated the lower shelf; however, the entire top half contained photos of most likely himself while he was a mere trooper in service; photos of a much younger Oliver with his arms around his squadmates, each sporting grins as people walked in the background at Shady Sands. A flashback of much simpler times passed the Courier; the old days of patrolling alongside Sarah Lyons and the Brotherhood of Steel, making peace with the Outcasts, helping the people of the wasteland-

 _I'd like to see that one day. A world with peace._

"We the unwilling, led by the unqualified, to kill the unfortunate, die for the ungrateful." the Courier muttered.

To wish to save others was to endlessly put others in danger; a wish for peace could only be achieved through countless of lives spent. The Courier left the General's office and slumped against the wall, sobbing into his helmet.

"Sarah, I'm so sorry…"

"Today we mourn the lives of our fellow brothers in arms; they died serving the Republic and it's people, protecting them from the legion." The General paused as he looked at all the troops that sat on the tarmac, some sporting wounds while others had faraway looks.

"All gave some. Some gave All." the General tugged his cap down in the bright sun. Birds twittered as a slight wind brushed the trees; otherwise, the entire base was silent.

"I know that for many of you, this is your first deployment. But some of you already know the bitterness of war; Especially those that fought alongside me at Hoover Dam."

"Many of you might never come back. You might die from an ambush, or from supernatural causes."

"However, don't forget; We stand to fight, in order to protect those that cannot. If we fail in our duty, then the people of the NCR; our families back home would be left in danger of the legion. And you know how the legion operates, like the tribals they are."

"They'll crucify your father and brother, and rape your mother and sisters. They're barbarians; monsters, that need to be put down." The General raised a sword; Mainly for ceremonial use from the Old World, and yet he had sharpened it.

"Who's with me?!" Battlecries from the troopers drowned out the peaceful day, as they raised their fists in the air.

"Cry 'Havoc!', and let slip the dogs of war." The Courier muttered, as the NCR war machine began to move once more.

Regiments had been mobilized to attack the Seat of the Saderan Empire's power; the city of Sadera, a population of around more than one million Saderan citizens.

Or, as one trooper put it, tribals.

"Alright boys, here's the game plan!" General Oliver called, as the officers crowded around him.

"Considering what we've seen so far, I'm assuming that they have no anti-air weaponry other than their damn flying lizards. We'll deploy shock troopers via vertibirds, and have the rest of the troopers haul ass with the APCs. This is a joint operation; I don't want anyone attacking too soon, or someone getting lost in the middle of nowhere. Understood?"

"Yes sir!" the crowd dispersed, as the Courier frowned behind his mask.

"This is a bad idea, Oliver." He cautioned, as the General snorted.

"We're fighting a bunch of primitives armed with swords and spears. What are they going to be able to do against us?"

"That's what we said about the Legion." The General sighed.

"That was then, this is now. We'll take the city within the day."

As the Courier exited, a distraught princess grabbed his arm.

"Please, call off the attack! We can work out peace-" The Courier shook his head.

"The Saderan Empire is given five hours to surrender. Otherwise, the NCR will besiege the city."

The sun rose over the plains near Sadera, as a massive enemy formation appeared overnight. Fortifications had already been dug up, with artillery already primed at the Capital's walls as troopers milled around.

"The capital has been surrounded!"

"It's the demons from the gate!" Sentries panicked on the walls as the senate was given it's choice; surrender peacefully, or prepare to be bombarded.

"Courier. Glad you're here." The General glanced up from the planning table, as he strode inside the command bunker.

"I need you to infiltrate the city and convince them to surrender." The Courier raised an eyebrow.

"And what makes you think they'll surrender?" Oliver gave a grim smile.

"Because you'll cut a bloody swathe through their defenders if you have to." The Courier sighed.

"Rules of engagement?" The General nodded at a officer, and glanced back.

"No friendles. Fire at will." The Courier nodded, as he drew his Sequoia, the visor of his helmet flickering from green to red.

"Acknowledged."

"Halt! By the order of Emperor Molt, you will submit-" A combat knife embedded itself between the legionnaire's eyes, as he clutched his head and screamed.

A .45-70 freed him from his agony.

"It's the Demon!" A senior officer smacked the legionnaire.

"Hold it men! We cannot let this man pass! Think of your families! This man will slaughter your wives and children! We must hold firm!" The Courier took a step towards the formation, Sequoia sliding back into it's holster as he raised his hand in the air, a riot shotgun materializing.

"I applaud your bravery. It is unnecessary." He fired into the formation, emptying the entire drum as the formation was torn apart, the Centurion pulped into a mess. He threw the shotgun behind him, the weapon already dematerializing as he drew the Sequoia and a extended ripper. He sawed a spear in half, Sequoia firing as a panicking Legionnaire attempted to hide behind his shield.

The round penetrated through both his shield and helmet, splattering his brains against the tiled road.

"Damn you!" A legionnaire ran towards him with his sword, and the Courier sheathed both weapons in an instant and disarmed the man.

The sword bisected his head cleanly, as he violently stabbed another in the throat.

The formation had been decimated; but several more had come while he had been busy, blockading the street.

He snarled.

"The demon is approaching the Senate house!"

"Praetorians! Guard the senators!" The guards rushed towards the door, and were promptly crushed as the heavy doors were blown off it's hinges, A monster clad in a leather duster glaring at them.

"Surrender now, or the city will be bombarded." His voice was muffled and distorted behind the mask, a terrifying aura filling the room.

"The Saderan Empire will never surrender to the likes of-" A loud gunshot echoed, and the occupants flinched as the senator was thrown back into his seat, a single, clean hole in his head leaking blood.

"Wrong answer."

The chamber spun, and he radioed headquarters.

"Send in a vertibird to drop some shock troopers. I need help coralling some tribals." A grunt of acknowledgment was all he received, as the hum of an engine became louder, and the heavy footsteps of power armor filled the corridor. The shock troopers stormed into the room, gunning down the frozen praetorians guards with no remorse as they were torn apart by 5.56 rounds.

"Troopers. Secure the prisoners. It's time for some field interrogation." He drew a knife, and approached the senators.

An attendant blocked his path.

"I will not let you kill anymore innocents!" He declared, as the Courier saw a glance of his past self.

He scowled.

"Then you can die for them." The Sequoia snapped up and fired, the attendant slumping to the floor.

"How inhumane…"

"I threw away my humanity with my naivety and idealism. There is no innocent path to peace. The path to keep people safe is a path stained with blood." The Sequoia snapped up, as he stared at them with a red glare.

"And may God forgive me for the sins I commit in his name."

"The Courier… Isn't exactly what you would call normal." The princess of the Saderan Empire sat across the Ambassador.

"Explain."

"From what I know of, he came from the East Coast of what's left of the United States; From a place called the Capital Wasteland. I don't know much of what happened there, as he refuses to talk about it; but whatever it is shaped him to who he is today. When he arrived here, he was twenty; he's twenty five now, although he looks much older."

"Is the Courier… sane?" Crocker gave her a stare.

"Mostly."

"OH GOD NO!" A brittle, terrifying laugh unnerved the shock troopers as the Courier stomped on the man's leg indiscriminately, a small pile of bodies in the corner.

"I'll stop, when you tell me what I need to know."

"I'll never speak!"

"Then you'll die." A armored boot crushed the man's skull, and a trooper flinched as bits of gore splattered on his armor.

"Who's next?"

The senate house blew into flames, as chunks of rubble flew everywhere. Imperial soldiers cheered at the death of the Demon; joy that the thing that had plagued their dreams died in a blaze of stone and fire.

That is, until a single fist punched it's way out of the rubble, an irate Courier appearing from the debris.

"Legionnaires! Testudo formation!" Shields locked in place, as the Courier glanced at the massive formation that stood before him, an entire legion tasked with his death. The Courier drew a weapon and fired into the air above, the mesmerizing glow in the hazy sky above Sadera.

"That's the signal! Open fire!" Artillery guns raised into position, as a thunder roared across the open plains before Sadera's walls. Massive plumes of dirt and stone were tossed into the air, as the roars could be heard all the way from Italica.

Debris clattered against the Courier, as he looked up at the sky, watching the rain of shells impact around him.

"So this is the end…" A shell sent him flying, as the world went to black.


	10. An end to a Reign

The Courier awoke to a field of grass, surrounded with flowers as he sat up. A distant figure awaited him in the distance; and his breath hitched as he scrambled to his feet, running to finally meet her once more. She caught him in her arms, as he sobbed, glad to finally be gone of the nightmare-

" _Soon; Not yet."_ She whispered, as the fields disappeared, replaced with crumbling ruin as he howled.

He was doomed to survive, to forever be gone from her reach; to live a existence to save and kill.

But she still waited for him.

So he would continue her dream.

He jerked aside as a spear blew past him, Sequoia blasting a hole in the insolent man's chest.

"Retreat!" The ripper came to life as he began his murderous rampage, bisecting men left and right as cries of terror filled the air.

"Don't worry Sarah." the Sequoia bucked as it found another target, an centurion busy rallying his cohort.

"I'll avenge you."

 _Capital Wasteland, A.D. 2262_

"AMBUSH!" Lasers scorched concrete as the knights fired at the mercenaries, who fired back with automatic weapon fire.

"Push forward!" Sarah ordered, as she pushed on much to the Wanderer's ire.

"Sarah, you're armor doesn't make you invincible!" He fired a burst with his assault rifle, swearing as a bullet pinged off his combat helmet.

"I'll be fine!" She promised, striding out of cover as she fired upon them with las-fire.

"Kill that Sentinel!" A man ordered, and the Wanderer realized it too late.

"SARAH!" the missile impacted the Sentinel directly on the chest, sending her tumbling to the ground.

"For the Brotherhood!" The Knights pushed forward, covering the fallen Sentinel as the Wanderer pulled her into cover.

"Damnit, don't die on me now!" He injected a stimpak, as Sarah Lyons coughed up blood. She grabbed his hands in her gauntlets, as she looked at him in the eyes.

"Can you make me a promise?" The Wanderer nodded.

"You can make all the promises you want. Just stay with me, okay?" Her armor was beginning to stain crimson.

"Promise… Promise me that you'll save everyone that I couldn't protect." He nodded.

"Alright. I'll do it." Her eyes began to fog.

"Thank you…" Her gauntlets clattered to the floor, as the Sentinel of the Brotherhood of Steel died in his arms.

 _Capital Wasteland, A.D. 2264_

"Look at what we got here, boys! Another one. This one's pretty, too." The raider leered as the settler squirmed, face full of terror.

"We're gonna have fun tonight boys!" The other five grinned.

"Come on, Let's go get-" He choked, as a serrated combat knife lodged in his throat.

"What the-?!" A muffled gunshot, and another lost his brains in a visceral explosion of gore.

"It's a damn ambush! Hit the ground!" The raiders scattered behind cover, as they peered around in paranoia.

"Come on, I haven't got all day!" One of them shouted, and he promptly choked as something dragged him away into the shadows.

"Damnit! We lost one!"

"Six men walked in the dark, an innocent in tow. Six men talked of sin. Three were struck down by the wrath of God, as three remained-" the muffled crack of a gunshot, as a raider fell, his throat torn apart.

"And another was struck down, in his name."

"Cut the shit! Who is it?"

"Your demise." another shot rang out, purging another of his existence.

"Shit! Fuck this, I'm out!" he dropped the hostage and attempted to flee-

A single shot tore apart both of his legs, as he squealed in agony.

"And so God called upon his wrath, to avenge the innocents slain-" the raider frantically crawled away, as his fingers grew raw from the chunks of concrete and soil.

"And thus I answered, in his name." a knife scraped against it's scabbard, as the raider gurgled from the seven inch knife twisting in his throat. He cut the bindings free from the settler, watching as she fled back in terror. Saving the innocent felt rewarding; he felt confident in his actions for the first time, no longer unsure of what to do.

 _Capital Wasteland, A.D. 2274_

He focused through the scope, watching as the tribal leader sat upon his throne.

They had been raiding caravans and nearby settlements; the Wanderer was to ensure that they were no longer harassed.

The explosives had been set several hours ago; Now, all he had to do was pull the trigger.

Then why couldn't he fire?

"You've already done this before. Do it." He muttered to himself, as he refocused his aim. A child ran into his view, and he swore. The child, a young girl sat upon the tribal leader's leg. The man's eyes softened; and he patted her on the head as he she giggled.

He fired.

The scream that came afterwards was forever in his mind; as well as the broken landscape after he triggered the detonator.

Was it right?

To save a few thousand, at the cost of a hundred innocent lives?

"Why?" He cursed.

"I'm still slaying the innocent. I'm no worse than-"

The truth shocked him in the core.

To save the someone, another had to die.

In order to keep the Wanderer and the knights safe, Sarah had to die.

In order to ensure that everyone in the Vault survived, he had to be exiled.

In order for him to save the entire Capital Wasteland, he had to exterminate the Enclave.

In order for others to live, free of sin, the Wanderer had to take their sins.

With a howl of rage and anguish, the Lone Wanderer of the Capital Wasteland cursed his very existence, his expression one of indescribable anger.

 _Capital Wasteland, A.D. 2275_

"Wow there, Let's be calm-" Commander Belfron of the Talon mercenary company took a step back, as the ghost of the Wasteland took a step towards him, silenced pistol in hand.

"You targeted Sarah. I need to know why." The commander tripped and fell down, the pistol locked on his face.

"I can't, it's confidential-" the receiver was pulled back with an ominous clack.

"Alright, alright! I'll spill!" Belfron crumbled, as he began frantically explained his contact; a man, who had contacted him all the way from the East Coast, wishing to end the Brotherhood.

"Thank you for your cooperation." the pistol barked, and Belfron crumbled, blood pooling on his vest.

The Ghost exited the office room, strolling past the corpses that lined the halls. Their faces were frozen in varying degrees of fear and agony; lasfire and plasma decorated the walls, as well as stains of blood from various victims.

Somewhere, a bell chimed.

Where, the Ghost cared not.

 _Mojave Wastelands, A.D. 2279_

It had taken the Ghost four grueling years to traverse what remained of the Old World.

He had passed the former state of Texas, where he met a unknown sect of the Brotherhood; learning that he was a Paladin of the East Coast, they welcomed him with open arms and taught him their trade of arms.

He left shortly thereafter, departing on his mission of repentance as he continued his journey across the deserts.

He met an entire nation, it's people referring to themselves as Soviets- Explaining to him that they were formerly of an Old World country known as the Soviet Union, and had traveled all the way to rebuild their country.

They had wished him luck with his quest, gifting him with a weapon named Spasitel; a word, they claimed, to describe him; Savior.

He continued traveling; carving a path wrought with blood, his very existence the antithesis of his ideals.

He eventually made his way to a city called Primm, and took a job as a Courier; a simple task of sending letters to various people across what was called the Mojave wasteland.

But his tale with the NCR all began, with a bullet to the head.

The ripper roared, cleanly bisecting a man in half as he swung, a scream escaping from his lips.

The Sequoia found it's new target; an extensively ornate soldier, the crest on his helmet indicating that he was a General.

A single shot sent him tumbling, the General slumping against his chariot. The Courier appeared through a veil of smoke and fire, ripper dripping with blood as he fired again, the round piercing another centurion as he made his way out of the destruction.

" _Courier, do you read? Courier!"_ He eviscerated another legionnaire, as the remaining men after the bombardment began to flee.

"Copy. Loud and Clear." He materialized a frag, chucking it into a group of legionnaires attempting to stick together.

The resulting explosion was satisfying.

"OH GOD! MY LEGS!" someone screamed, and the Courier fired without bothering to turn, ending him of his misery as he strolled his way out of the remains of the senate house.

His next stop; the Imperial Palace.

A formation of well armored legionnaires stood before the palace doors, shields locked in formation as a man stepped forward.

"Halt! I, Tribune Tiberius challenge you to a duel!" The Courier nodded, materializing Jingwei's sword as he took a stance.

"You have slain many today. But I shall end your slaughter!" He gave a bitter laugh.

"Believe me, many have tried." He ducked under a swing, leg lashing out as his knee smashed against the Tribune's chin. The sword flashed, twirling as he thrusted forward, the blade piercing straight through the chest of the former great General.

"and they all failed."

He pulled the sword out, the man gasping as he was decapitated.

"Pila! Fire!" various spears came forward, flying towards him at rapid speed;

The flamer burst to life, incinerating the offending wooden sticks as they burnt to a crisp.

"Pathetic." the flamer torched the formation alive, as they screamed and attempted to be rid of the flames. He stepped over the crisp bodies, wrenching the doors open with his hands. The throne was vacant except for one; many advisers stood near him and looked shocked at his presence.

"How dare you enter the throne of Emperor Zoral El Caesar?!" he thundered, as the Courier stared at him evenly.

"For the crimes you have committed against the NCR and it's people, your punishment is execution." Movement was all he had as a warning as he shifted to the side, a massive mace even larger than him smashing into the tiles. A massive ogre loomed before him, roaring a challenge as it attempting to swing it's mace again, the Courier ducking aside as the Emperor laughed.

"None can stand before the Empire's might!" The Courier materialized his .50 cal rifle, rolling out of the way and pulling back the bolt.

A single .50 incendiary round penetrated the ogre's helmet, tearing through it's skull and setting it's brain alight. The Ogre clutched it's head and promptly crumpled, much to the shock of the others in the room.

"You are to be brought before the Supreme Court, where you will be judged for your crimes against the people of the NCR."

 _Several miles away, Forward Headquarters_

"General! We've captured the battlements!" Oliver grinned.

"Good! All units! Push forward to the Imperial Palace! Give that Caesar son of a bitch a warm welcome!"

"You heard the man! Forward!" troopers emerged from trenches, bayonets fixed on their rifles as they stormed past the gates, defenders either gone or deserted.

Tanks rolled past destroying buildings, as the civilian population cowered inside of what remained of their houses.

"Six O'Clock! Hostiles!" A squad of legionnaires cowered inside a building, as the sherman fired, burying them and anyone else inside alive.

"REMEMBER FREESIDE!" a trooper ducked under a frantic sword swing and plunged his bayonet forward, burying the blade hilt deep before firing inside the man's chest.

"Take that, you damned legion bastard!" the man grasped the wound, gasping for breath as gurgled on his own blood. Private Hucks, now Corporal Hucks, tugged his rifle out of the legionnaire's corpse as he spotted the flash of a blade. Training taking over, he ducked and fired center mass, pausing only when he realized who it was.

A kid. It was a damned kid.

One of the locals screamed as the kid collapsed, even as the trooper dropped his rifle in shock.

"Fuck, fuck man." Staff Sergeant Brooks came running by, and paused.

"Damnit." The Corporal stared at the Staff Sergeant.

"Why did this happen? How the fuck did I just…"

"War doesn't discriminate against the innocent, Corporal. You saw a blade, and you reacted. He's another casualty like the hundreds of others from the artillery barrage earlier." The Corporal continued to stare at the corpse.

"But he was-" the Sergeant snapped.

"Damnit, I know Hucks! We don't have a choice! Now get moving!" He smacked the trooper lightly on the head, clanging against his helmet as he pushed on.

Hucks stayed frozen, kneeling over the dead boy as rain began to fall from above.

The Courier was in a standstill; legionnaires surrounded him and the apparent Emperor, the previous one apparently being assassinated.

"You're still outnumbered! Surrender, or die like the mongrel you are." Zorzal declared, pride still etched on his face. The Courier scowled.

"I know that face. I've seen it on many men, more destructive or terrifying than you are." A weapon began to materialize, as the Legionnaires tensed.

"And they're all dead men." Several smoke grenades began bellowing smoke throughout the entire chamber, filling it with a thick cloud as the Legionnaires coughed and looked around.

They're last moments were of a terrifying red glare, and the hiss of something as something sharp penetrated their throats and skulls, ending them in an instant.

"Find him, and kill him!" A scream cut him off, as the man that had been next to him died an excruciating death.

"I am Wrath incarnate, made and shaped to punish the unfaithful and the unworthy-" Another slice, and another man gurgled as blood drenched his arm.

"And you have been found wanting."

Crown Prince and Emperor Zorzal of the Saderan Empire struggled to breathe, as the red eyed demon clutched his throat with one arm.

"Repent sinner, or die." Zorzal scrabbled at the plated gauntlet holding his throat, gasping in desperation as it slowly closed, cybernetic enhancements cracking the bone and spine as the prince gave a look of resignation, and snarled.

"Never! I am the Emperor-" The hand curled into a fist, crushing Zorzal's windpipe as he gurgled.

"How low the mighty have fallen." the Courier dropped Zorzal's corpse on the stairs to the throne, as he glared at the apparition in the smoke.

"Is this what you are now, Wanderer? Nothing but a glorified murderer, killing others to achieve your dream?" Colonel Autumn gazed back at him, arms crossed as he frowned.

He fired his Sequoia in rage, as the bullet simply went through with no effect.

"Killing indiscriminately just like your rampage through Enclave controlled bases and outposts?" The Colonel gave a manic grin.

"What would Sarah Lyons think?" the Courier drew his combat knife and rushed towards the apparition, swinging only to go through smoke as he looked around him.

"To see the love of her life throw himself away; damning himself into a path of betrayal as her beautiful dream gets warped into a nightmare." The Courier screamed in frustration, as the Colonel appeared from the smoke once more.

"Or what would your father think? His dream of saving the people of the wasteland, ruined by his own child-" the figure disappeared as it was replaced by a stumbling legionnaire, the Courier gutting him with the knife and then decapitating him.

"You know nothing!" the knife was flung, as it embedded itself into the marble column the Colonel stood in front of.

"Futile. You can't kill what's dead." The smoke disappeared, the Colonel now gone as the Courier looked around at the carnage around him; his blind firing had killed several innocent civilians, and those that had been in the smoke were now missing innards and entrails.

A flash, as the civilians were replaced with Brotherhood knights, who had fired upon him believing him to be the murderer of their fallen Sentinel-

"No." The illusions faded away, as the Courier turned to look at the broken glass panes, the sun making it's way over the horizon.

"Even if this isn't my dream; even if I stumble and fall-" he was bathed in sunlight, as warmth filled the room.

"This isn't wrong." the doors burst open, as the first elements of the NCR entered the scene of a massacre, a broken window and the Courier nowhere to be seen.


	11. Rangers Lead the Way

"Ah! The Lobomite finally shows cognitive functions!" the Courier groggily sat up from the steel table.

"A pity. We were just about to dissect him." He slid off, quickly donning his armor as he winced at all the sharp objects on a tray next to him.

"How long was I out?" He questioned, now fully garbed in his elite riot armor.

"Subject has been out for approximately five standard days." He paused.

"How did I get here?" Klein replied cheerfully.

"Why, I pulled you here with the transponder! How else?"

"But I thought-" Dr. Klein wheeled away.

"Yes. Sadly, it had been destroyed due to your incompetence- a fact I am willing to forgive at the moment."

"Now now, Klein. We can't blame him for this; after all, it was a mere prototype-" Darla interrupted.

"Which is precisely the point. That was our only prototype, and it's been turned into a half-slagged scrap heap!" The transponder sat on another trap, it's internal circuits completely fried along with charred metal decorating it's innards.

"Damn."

"Well, Lobomite! What have you seen on the other side of the gate? More test subjects?" Borous asked excitedly, as the Courier took a step back.

"Uh… several non-human species?" Borous blinked.

"Fascinating. I must have some samples for testing!"

"Maybe next time." He turned to Klein.

"How are the plans coming up? Did you finish them yet?" Klein paused.

"What plan-"

"Ah, yes! Here!" 0 interrupted, as a robotic arm reached down from the ceiling and unveiled a new prototype rifle.

"It is capable of firing any ammunition, and fires rounds over several thousand miles per second; you'd be able to destroy anything with a single bullet." He paused.

"And yes, it comes with a full auto feature." The Courier nodded.

"And the other plans?" Another arm tugged a bag full of blueprints and shoved it into his chest.

"Here! Now be gone! We have many more things to do than dilly dally around pointless endeavours." Something was tossed into his chest as a flash of light took him away.

"Doctor Klein, was that really necessary-"

"The Lobomite can repair the damn thing himself, for all I care."

He had been warped back into the other side of the Gate.

Which proved that the transponder was capable of transportation between worlds.

"Damn crazy scientists…"

He looked around himself, as he noticed something off-

"What the-"

Where the hell was he?

"How the hell did he-" He glanced at the legionnaire who spoke, the red glare cowing him into submission.

"Where the hell am I?"

"You are in the southernmost province of the State of Sadera, sire."

"Hmph." He had to fucking walk his way back, it seemed.

"What's the fastest way to reach the capital?"

"By boat, sire. It will take you at most a week."

"Good. Take me to the docks and get me a ride." the legionnaire stammered.

"But-" The Sequoia slid into his right hand in a practiced movement.

"Now."

"Right away, sir!" The Courier walked behind him, revolver on his hip.

"Tell me, legionnaire; how long has it been since the battle for Sadera?" the Legionnaire gave him a confused look.

"Ten years, sir." he paused in shock.

"Ten-"

"The Saderan Empire was conquered and became a state of the NCR, sir."

"Hey look! It's the Courier!"

"I thought he went AWOL!" He blanked as he glanced at the NCR troopers passing by.

"Get me to whoever is in charge. Now."

"Governor Co Lada, someone is here to see you." She looked up from her desk.

"Who is it?"

"He won't say. He says his name is Six." the pen dropped.

"Let him in." He walked in, same attire as ten years ago; the same revolver on his hip, the silenced sniper rifle slung over his shoulder as he stepped into the room.

"Six. It's been a long time."

"Apparently a week is ten years for the Think Tank…" He mumbled to himself, and she glanced at the guard in confusion.

"Just go along with it, ma'am."

"So. From Princess to Governor. What happened?" She sighed.

"The NCR happened. After your disappearance, the General went for a militaristic turn; abolishing the royal crown entirely, in favor of a NCR ruled government. Massive uprisings rose against both the Empire and the NCR; many former provinces are now ruled by various warlords, while the General himself stays cooped up in his office, blaming himself for your disappearance." She looked up.

"But you've returned, at this time. Why?" Six shrugged.

"I dunno. I thought I died." She reached over to her desk, to what seemed to be a communications terminal.

"Let me send a message to Oliver, and tell him you're back-" He blocked her.

"Not yet. I still have some things I need to do." He glanced out the window, at the now growing industrial port of the city of Proptor, as the Courier grinned.

"How do you feel about ruling the seas, Princess?"

"what-" He materialized a blueprint, pulling it open and sprawling it on the desk.

"Is that a-"

The blueprint was labeled with the name of the cruiser, as it showed it's armaments;

Nine eight inch caliber guns, eight five inch anti-air guns, two three pounder guns, and eight .50 cal machine guns along with various laser weaponry attached to it.

 _New Orleans Class Cruiser_

"Think your factories and shipyards can start producing these?"

"Yes, but-" He clapped his hands.

"Great! I'll hang around the city to watch progress. In the meantime, are there any… problems that need to be taken care of?" The Courier whispered.

"Well, we have some reports of extortion, excessive taxation-"

"Good. It looks like I have some catching up to do." He exited the office, as the door shut behind him.

She sighed.

"To think, that even he wouldn't change after all these years…" She reached into her cabinet.

"I need a drink."

"Please! I'll have the money by tomorrow!" The man pleaded, as he watched his table kicked over, and his chairs smashed.

"It's already been a week! You better pay up now, Or we'll simply take your wife and daughter as payment. They'll fetch quite a price…" A single gunshot could be heard outside, as people screamed.

"What the-" The door was kicked in, as a legend, thought to be gone forever returned.

"Your buddies were a joke. Couldn't even handle a single .45-70 round to the noggin." He chuckled.

"Not that anyone ever has." The man scrambled backwards.

"You have no right! I am part of-" The Courier grinned behind his mask.

"Oh? And what right overturns that of the Chief of the Rangers?" The man paled.

"Now listen here-" The sun glinted off the barrel, as the man made out what appeared to be a motto;

 _Against All Tyrants_

"I've heard about you from the Governor, Beranius; extorting poor NCR citizens of their cash, and making moves on the princess?" He frowned.

"One, you don't make profit off of the misery of others. Especially when I'm in vicinity. Second-" The double action revolver spun in his hand.

"She's mine." Beranius growled.

"What are you waiting for! Get him!" One dropped his weapon, completely refusing to fight back.

He still remembered the red eyed demon during his time as a legionnaire; of the death and despair he brought, and the hope he inspired in those he sought to protect.

The others, however, were too young and had never fought in the unification wars at all.

One rushed forward with his dagger; and the Courier quickly sheathed his revolver, disarming him in a flurry as he left the knife stabbed in the mercenary's back. He frowned.

"Amateurs. I've seen better recruit legionaries fight than you." The man attempted to stand, only to realize his spinal cord had been severed.

"That's enough of that." He stomped downwards, eyes still locked onto Beranius as the bionic leg crushed the mercenary's skull with the force of a wrecking ball, pulping his head completely.

"I'm afraid I haven't introduced myself yet." The visor glared red.

"You may know me as the Demon of Sadera, or whatever it is that you tribals called me. But many know me as the Hero of the Republic." there were still five; two next to the hostages, armed with daggers while the other three were armed with rifles and rudimentary armor. Beranius was in full plate, which didn't really matter to the Courier; he had switched the Armor Piercing beforehand.

"Now. Surrender to authorities, or else I will be forced to take action." Beranius growled, as the Courier shrugged.

"To be honest, either way doesn't matter to me. There's already too much blood on my hands. Besides, a fireteam of Veteran Rangers are holding just outside the doorway." a customized .45 auto pistol materialized in the air, as the Sequoia was stowed away on his hip.

"But then again, harsh punishment is what I'm known for." Seven rounds, and six targets.

The silenced .45 caliber pistol barked, as it dropped the two next to the hostages. A third was dropped in a flash, as the fourth attempted to flee and received a round in the head. Beranius, much to his credit, drew his sword and attempted to rush the Courier head on.

Which was a mistake, considering the fact that Six had fought off several Praetorians and Centurions in melee. The Courier ducked aside as the blade nearly lopped off his head, kicking the corrupt tax collector in the chest as the handgun was brought to bear;

He'd forgotten about the fifth, it seemed as a sword stabbed into his side.

"Ha! Damn demon isn't so tough after all." The Courier stared at the blade protruding from his gut.

And then promptly reached backwards and pulled the entire blade out, blood flowing from the wound.

"What the-?!" The mercenary stammered as the Courier turned around, a gloved hand grasping the man's throat as he chucked him against Beranius with the force of a deathclaw.

"Nice try. But I don't die that easily." An auto-stimpak injected itself into the Courier, as the wound closed up before all in view.

"What the hell are you?!" Beranius snarled, hands trembling as he held the blade before him.

"Well, to many I was known as the Messiah; the herald of God almighty." He chuckled bitterly.

"what a joke." The Sequoia snapped up in a blink, two shots firing in an instant as both were put down from shots to the head.

"It seems that not even killing is hard for me to do anymore… Seems more like a chore." The veteran rangers stormed in, pausing at the literal bloodbath and the terrified family in the corner.

"I thought me and Hanlon taught you boys to do much better." He scolded, as he holstered his sidearm.

"Sorry sir. There's been too many incidents to keep track of everyone." The ranger apologized, and he sighed.

"Alright. Who's been in charge of the boys while I was away?" He questioned, taking a glance at the shattered furniture. He winced; he'd probably have to pay for it out of his own pocket.

"No one's really been in charge, sir. We've been independent, for the most part." He nodded.

"Good. I don't want you boys getting tossed into another pointless conflict like Hoover Dam." He turned around towards the family, and tugged off his helmet.

"Sorry about that. I'll make sure the boys help clean up the room for you." he flipped open his pipboy, materializing a gold bar from the vaults of Sierra Madre and placed it in front of them.

"A compensation for all the blood I spilled on the floor and the broken furniture." The father stared at the gold bar in amazement.

"Rangers, make sure to gather everyone else for a meeting in the town hall; I've got some announcements to make." the veteran nodded.

"Understood sir."

He took a nap for a bit, and the same nightmares plagued him just as before; the various scenes of death he had wrought on countless victims, who happened to be on the other side.

Corpses clad in advanced power armor lay strewn about, some clutching their weapons and slumped against walls while others had attempted to save their comrades and had been mercilessly gunned down in the process; Soldiers of a fallen country, fighting for a ideal they believed in;

The Talon Mercenaries, who had been executed in quick fashion for their assassination of Sarah Lyons; countless settlers that had no choice but to join to survive in the Wasteland;

The Pitt, where he had sentenced hundreds to die after utterly annihilating the entire steel plant with several carefully placed explosives;

A small city in the middle of what remained of the United States, after the soviets asked for his help in saving several of their citizens that had been captured and tortured; entire families gunned down by a minigun, as the then Ghost simply fired indiscriminately at the crowds;

The Great Khans and the White Legs, both simple tribes trying to keep them and their people alive as they were methodically eliminated by precision shots from a silenced sniper rifle;

And finally, on the other side of the Gate, countless numbers of legionnaires that simply fought for their countries and families that they had left behind to protect; Corpses strewn with various expressions of horror, as they were torn apart without even a chance of fighting by various firearms.

Was his ideals even worth fighting for anymore?

He glanced at the corpses strewn about a metal hallway.

He saw Death.

Men clad in black combat armor, torn apart by large caliber rounds.

He saw Death.

Entire innocent families, torn apart by various firearms and explosives for being part of the wrong side.

He saw Death.

" _Promise… Promise me that you'll save everyone that I couldn't protect."_

And yet, he had promised. That one day, he'd save all of them, and she'd be able to come back, back with him-

He woke up with a start, hand grasped around the neck of whoever it was that had just tried to-

"Courier! Let go!" his hands relaxed instantly, as he let go of Piña's neck. She gasped for air, standing a few feet away from him warily.

"My bad. You surprised me." She rolled her eyes.

"I've been calling you for the past few minutes, but you wouldn't wake up." He glanced at the window, grimacing.

"Shit. I'm late to the meeting." He tugged on his helmet and duster, fumbling with the latch.

"Here. Let me help." Piña shut it for him, and he gave a nod in thanks.

"So… Chief of the Rangers, hmmm?" A hand lingered on his collar; and he nodded.

"Served alongside Hanlon as his deputy for a while. He retired and left me the job." He slid on the various pouches of ammunition and grenades on his belt, and straightened his duster.

"Alright. I'm gonna go." He stepped forward, Piña's hands falling from his collar as he strode out of the doorway towards the balcony.

"Idiot." She muttered.

"Rangers!" He called as he reached the balcony, conversations stopping as they looked up.

"Where you been, Chief? Getting lucky?" one called from the crowd, causing some to erupt in snickers.

"Luck is all you're gonna need soon, Bradley! You're on next patrol." he groaned.

"Now. As many of you may know, this slice of heaven is completely different from the slice of hell we've been living and breathing in so far." He gestured to the trees and life the city was filled with.

"Their customs are different from ours; some may even not recognize who we are."

"However, that does not mean that they are unworthy; we serve to protect those that cannot help themselves. The Desert Rangers fought against Caesar's Legion to protect their people, continuing to fight even as they continued to take casualties. However, if there's one thing that makes a Ranger a Ranger, It's courage." several stood up straighter, a few with medals from past campaigns against various enemies.

"Our courage helps us face the enemy in the face of defeat. Our courage sets us as a example of what troopers aspire to become. Our courage lets us lead the charge even under a hail of gunfire, for none are capable of what we can do. And finally, Our courage is what the people of the NCR look up to. Even when all falls apart seems lost, our arrival can unite even the most broken of men to take up arms once more."

"And thus, we shall set an example; we aren't hired mercenaries. We don't fight for the sake of fighting. For our motto is Against All Tyrants; For as long as innocents suffer, we shall continue fighting, eliminating all would be oppressors." He cleared his throat.

"Now. I know I haven't been the best Chief since Hanlon's retirement-" several coughs made him roll his eyes.

"I know. Can it." chuckles erupted from various veterans, who had fought alongside him at various places.

"But I'll try my best. Which is why I requisitioned and brought a bunch of gifts for all of you." Several perked up.

"I've managed to procure us five vertibirds for easy transport, along with several LAVs for fire support against…. whatever it is that can stand toe to toe with a deathclaw." He checked his pip-boy again for the continuation of the list.

"Also, I've got us some more weapons and experimental prototypes- y'all can check the armory later. Also, I got everyone a set of advanced riot gear; It's yours now, and I don't mind of you personalize it a little." He perked up as he remembered something.

"Oh. Also, the first cruiser that the shipyards finish producing belongs to us Rangers, so we'll be able to go explore a bit overseas. The rest belong to the regular army, though I'm pretty sure the Senate is going to pass a bill to establish a navy soon…" He looked back to the crowd.

"And that's everything. Anyone have any questions? Concerns they want to raise up?" One hand rose in the air.

"Alright. Whatcha want, Kurt?" Kurt had served as a original Desert Ranger, and had served in the rangers for several decades; He was well into his forties by now.

"Anything to look out for while on patrol?"

"I've gotten reports from the Governor of corrupt tax collectors and low government officials; You have my full permission to ensure that they never do it again." He nodded.

"Understood." The Courier stood up, stretching.

"Alright. Class dismissed." the rangers dispersed, some sticking together most likely to get a bite to eat while others headed back to the rooms to probably take a nap.

Things would be more complicated, the Courier mused as most of the major conflicts had ended. Although most would probably want him to return to the Mojave, Falmart was much more comfortable. He sat in the wooden recliner, leaning backwards as he looked out to the sea.

Maybe he'd go for a swim, he mused; he should probably get the rangers to start swimming exercises in case they fell overboard. It seemed strange; for the war to end before he could really do anything major, and for technology to be introduced so rapidly to the locals.

Even if most of them had no idea how to use them.

Ranger Headquarters had been moved to the Castle/Town hall of the city of Proptor, which had been reconstructed several times to increase space for both quarters and landing pads for transportation. The NCR had effectively conquered the entire continent, as more and more of the locals adapted to English and Californian culture. Even then however, there were still damned problems.

"Sir!"

For example, the obviously new recruit that kept bothering him.

"Sir!"

"What?!" He turned to look, the fresh faced recruit still garbed in ranger combat armor, a .44 revolver in it's holster by his hip.

"There's been a situation! One of the local gangs is in a shootout with another gang."

"And?"

"Some civilians are stuck in the crossfire, sir. One of them is a VIP." He hissed.

"Who?"

"the countess of Italica, sir. Countess Myui. Accompanying them is Third Recon."

Fuck.

"Alright. Get whoever's on standby and a vertibird ready. I've had enough of their shit."


	12. Quick Author’s note

Just a quick update:

I'm still going to continue this, despite some dissatisfaction from others. As to answer some questions:

EMIYA has major influence over my idea of the Courier, especially one who has been from the vault (Fallout 3)

And to answer the second question, this Courier is from the tale of two wastelands, which considering someone said I need to get well read, feels ironic.

I'll probably make some edits, but I will continue this fic when my computer gets back from repair.

If anyone has serious questions to ask or actual advice, I strongly recommend making an actual account, reading all versions of GATE and read through the various sources for 3 and New Vegas, and think for a good few minutes, and then send me a PM for any specific questions which I will answer. Swearing and demanding for me to take it down doesn't result in anything, considering I'd just dismiss you as an idiot.

Another thing to note is that I write in my free time; I never said I was any good. :D


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